I Miss Having Ten Fingers
by KingHoborg
Summary: Dropped unceremoniously in the body of a random quarian exile, James Mansone writes about his adventures, experiences and discoveries while trying to survive in an uncomfortable situation. My first "fic", based on all those SI fics out there, set in a simple journal format. Please do leave a review, it always helps to improve the quality and give me ideas.
1. The Predicament

**Well, here we go...**

**I've seen some well-written stories, and some not-so-well-written stories, but they've gotten me thinking: I think I can do that. I think I can throw together a decent set of actions.**

**Too bad I can't write worth shit (creatively that is, I am wired to write essay style stuff it seems). So the next best option would be to write a "Journal" of sorts, I can say what I want and avoid most of the troublesome bits.**

**Let me know if this is good/bad/terribad/needs corrections, though keep in mind that this is more of a journal entry rather than a real story.**

_**I've shuffled in some bits and pieces to increase the length of this chapter. Please let me know if you notice any discrepancies etc. I want this to be as smooth as possible.**_

* * *

**Day 1-2 (?) Date Unknown (gotta get on that soon)**

_Fair warning: I was pretty upset when I wrote much of this, so reader be wary of colourful language, scatter-brained ranting, etcetera. Thank you for your consideration and bear with me while I push through this. I hope._

Heyooooo! I finally figured out how my omni-tool works... with a little help. That fine example of a human was giving me odd looks the entire time. Understandable. I mean it's not everyday you meet an exiled quarian who claims to be amnesiac, yet still knows some of the finer points of human culture. _If _you are confused and believe I am rambling, then that'd be pretty acceptable, all things considered. Rambling is a much better than the possible alternatives...

You see: I am having something of a crisis. Existential and identity-wise. I don't even know who I am anymore. Not because I don't remember my past, but because I am so fucking lost in the present. All those before me who asked the question 'who am I?' and had no answer... _They have no excuses!_

_They_ were not transplanted across dimensions...

_They _were not transplanted into the future...

_They _were not transplanted across the galaxy to an entirely new space-fucking-station...

_They_ were not transplanted into a whole new body...

_They_ were not transplanted to a whole new species...

Oh yeah! Did I mention that I'M A FUCKING QUARIAN!? You know: curved legs, three fingers/toes, dextro-amino DNA and the threat of infection awaiting me if I ever step out of my suit? (Speaking of my suit, just to give a visual here: black armour and a forest green sash-thingie with gold trimmings. The hood-thing is black with a cool green tribal pattern [At least, even though I'm mildly clueless, I've got a sense of style]). But I digress. I've had a few hours to try and contemplate whatever it is that happened to me, and I've still got nothing.

There I was, just chilling in my room and planning for my annotated bibliography that is- was due in a week or so. Being the Master Procrastinator I am that is hardly big news... However I was about to fall asleep _when..._ I don't know what happened.

Let me bring you up to speed on the happenings once I got here. I awoke to a transport filled with civilians and luggage, looked down to see what I'd become (cue hyperventilating, panicking, and more than a few curses when I initially thought my legs were broken) when a couple of hijackers try to take control. By 'try' I mean 'got their shit stomped' by some random-ass quarian dude in a stylin' blue and white suit and a very familiar looking krogan with a red plate and armour. Couldn't catch either of their faces (but then again with one of them being quarian...), though the krogan looked and sounded like Uncle Wrex of the Urdnot clan. The quarian dude was biotic! And he actually gave a shit about the civilians caught in that less-than-optimal predicament; the krogan, well, he just didn't give a fuck about anyone except the idiots that pissed him off... Goddamn krogans.

Speaking of civilians, everyone was still freaking the fuck out, it was hilarious! Wait... No it wasn't. Yep, if I wasn't too busy freaking out about my new body I would have been freaking out about the hijacking. And if not that, then the giant fucking gunfight between the 'jackers and the two dudes that were demolishing them. That quarian was chucking his knife at dudes, then biotically pulling it back again. Creative. That krogan was blowing heads up- literally exploding them- with his shotgun and his goddamn fists. HIS FUCKING FISTS! See above about my freaking the fuck out.

Anyway, the two took down the hijackers, but not before one guy started monologuing philosophical bullshit about "keeping the population in check", "differences causing fights" and being a moderator making "necessary sacrifice" for the greater good of the galaxy. AND THEN he tries to talk his way out, saying he's not a criminal. Give me a break! Cops showed up right after.

I then got taken into custody by C-Sec (cue anti-quarian sentiments, 'thieves and beggars' bullshit and the like from just about EVERYONE! [it took nearly all my patience and willpower to not sucker punch this one turian that was 'interviewing' me]). Four hours later, soon after hearing my not-so-inspiring name and title, I stumbled around C-Sec for a bit, stumbled into an alley, slept for an hour or two, then stumbled (sensing a pattern here yet?) around the wards a bit. Turns out people can be on one side of the asshole-o-metre or the other.

Actually still feeling the effects of a friendly (*cough*) encounter with a batarian. I looked at him too long (more than three seconds is too long apparently). Fuck me, I thought those guys only really hated humans. Consider that a free lesson in batarian culture I guess. But... Wait-a-minute... Weren't batarians not even allowed on the Citadel or some shit? I don't even know anymore, everything is blurring together.

After that I tried to figure out some suit functions. No luck without an omni-tool I guess. Felt like an idiot when I asked a dude about getting one. He just stared at me and said this: "Look, I don't know if that bucket of yours is cutting off oxygen to your brain or something but you already have one." Then he just walked away laughing his ass off.

Asshole. Or bosh'tet. Depending on which language I'm cursing in.

...

Ha! I just realised that I have a 'soul name'. Those 'big stupid jellyfish' (hanar), as Shepard so eloquently put it, aren't alone in that regard! I get something to tell my closest friends and family! Wait... Just friends. I have no family, which sucks. But it's also lucky; it'd be kinda awkward to pretend to be someone's son when I'd probably be nowhere near Raz's old personality.

Just about to turn in for the night. Still don't have a place to stay, so it's to the alleyways for me. I've got nothing to be stolen from me, no reason to be mugged, which is nice. But... why can't this be like all those self-insert fan fics where the hero gets everything given to him/her right off the start? I mean, a bit of FOOD WOULD BE NICE! Speaking of food, I really hope that dextro-pastey shit isn't as notoriously bad as it's made out to be... Then again anything would be better than nothing. Nevertheless I am extremely jealous right now, even of those poor self-inserts that got Cerberus-ified. At least they got food, and the teensiest bit of warning _before_ they were horribly modified.

...

Still haven't recovered from whatever madness, dream, whatever the hell this is yet. Don't know the time, date, or year. I have no food, no water, no combat training. I can't just 'herpity-derpity' and join Shepard to save the galaxy (who's to say I won't excercise my considerable 'foreknowledge' though hehe). All I've really got going in my favour are my good looks (and I'm in the best place to show it all!), natural charms (yeah right), and wits (whoa, hey, there's some truth).

Grrrr.

My name was Jesse Mansone, known now as Raz'Tallen nar Tasi vas Nedas, and this is a documentation of my experiences. I'm sitting here on a park bench, on the citadel, as a species I've only seen in a video game, using something like Microsoft Word to help calm my nerves. Damnit I miss having ten fingers. I guess it's not so bad though, I mean I still have opposable 'thumbs'. Losing those would have been disastrous.

Also, I wish to thank the perverted gods that thought it would be enjoyable to hippity-hoppity my way through my 'new' life. Thank you for giving me a relatively hominid body! I don't know if I could've stood being a fucking volus, vorcha, elcor or hanar. I would've taken asari over any of those, and that would've been just plain awkward.

But I may have just screwed myself over for the next time I get displaced, no doubt it'll happen again. Uh... I'm over thinking things again. The calming orange glow of the omni-tool under the touch of my stubby, fumbling digits is keeping me away from the most worrying of thoughts: I think I've gone insane.

...

About time really.

* * *

**I got the transport situation from JustAFerret's Paragon I: Never Simple, a well written story (one of those that influenced my decision to throw some creativity out here).**

**Feel free to leave a review or some kind of private message explaining how I can make this better, make better sense of things, or just plain expand. I am constantly thinking up new ideas myself and my "plan as I go" 'plan' (if you can even call it that) isn't quite the best thing for writing, as you probably already know.**


	2. Job Opportunities

_**Same as previous chapter, I added a few things here.**_

* * *

**Day 3, Date still unknown (December-ish 218-something?)**

I attempted to do some things today. Those of you that are reading this probably don't know just how much this means. I procrastinate with the best of slackers. It's in my nature! I've had one job in my life, mostly because _getting_ one is so damn hard. Let me sum up the last few attempts here:

* * *

"Excuse me? Are yo-" "Not hiring"

"Excuse me sir?" "Out of here, quarian."

"Exc-" "Not hiring."

"E-" "Get lost quarian. We don't hire your kind."

* * *

So no job for me today. On the bright side I fiddled with my tool a bit more: apparently Raz was a fairly gifted techie. Before I 'assumed direct control'. Odd thing, though, I keep getting these urges to do things, like randomly opening up a program and managing to hack a random omni-tool. Read some of his messages... I may never fully recover. But that's not the point! The point is that I hacked a dude's tool, with no conscious clue how to hack, and got away with it. Latent skills/memories perhaps? Maybe if I were to go to some kind of Psychologist they could help get Raz's memories back (gotta make sure I don't end up in an asylum though). Still, t'was tense and exciting at the same time.

I didn't steal anything, but with the ease at which I did it I'm beginning to see a possible reason why Raz was exiled. Rhymes with grief. (If you don't get it, I am seriously disappointed).

...

Turns out it works on those credit chit-thingies too. Quick cash if I need it.

...

And store terminals... And... Advertisements? What good would that do? I could go all Kasumi Goto on people, mess with their heads etcetera. All that matters is that if I'm willing to perform a shitload of less-than-legal activities, I won't need a job. But am I willing to stoop so low? I always considered myself to be a 'morally upright' fellow, but if worse comes to worse I think I could. I have never, ever tasted true desperation before. Hopefully I won't start now.

...

Found some nutrient paste in the trash. Tastes like shit (wouldn't you know it, they were right), but at least my hunger was dialed back a notch. Batarians tried to rob me, too bad I have fuck all to steal (unless you count my rolled up paste tube). My Galactic Culture lessons are taking a toll, in conjunction with a touch of malnutrition. I'll need to make a trip to a clinic soon. Probably tomorrow. Doctor Michel's was a non-profit, am I right? Probably head there, she's friendly enough. Gotta find it first though, where's an Avina terminal when you need it?

...

My quarian physiology is a little rusty, so can someone please tell me if it's normal to have red shit in my saliva when I cough... Someone? No? Because I'm seeing this on the inside of my helmet (which is kinda gross and not very cool). I really don't want to be seeing myself hack up my own innards over time. Also, feels like I broke something important in my general ribcage area.

...

Found a terminal, I now know where the clinic is, though I also saw the big G-Man (that's Monsieur Garrus Vakarian) doing his thing. Patrolling (like a boss), looking bored (like a boss), chilling with his partner (like a boss), livin' the life (like a boss). Yeah I tend to watch people. It's always been one of my strong-suits, observing and the occasional eavesdropping. You'd be amazed at the info you can gather just by pretending to be a useless, non-threatening civilian. Which is, funnily enough, not the truth. I'm lower than a useless non-threatening civilian. I'm a goddamn homeless quarian piece of shit that can't go ten minutes without coughing up blood.

Anyway that stick up his ass seems to be causing some early chafing, he seems to be in a real bad mood today. No doubt Big Bossman Pallin was all up in his grill about some shitty job. I'd never survive in C-Sec. And that's not because of my new heritage and history, but because of my personality. I like freedom of choice. Also because I know why G-Man leaves in the first place...

...

I must be the only true bum in Tayseri Ward. At least other bums have _some_ possessions. That's gotta be an achievement or something. It won't be long before C-Sec notices and brings me in for vagrancy. I can just imagine the possible conversation with Shepard, when he/she shows up after Eden Prime...

* * *

*Enter right*

"Hi!" - Me

"Hello?" - Shepard

"I'm Raz, a quarian exile with no money, no job, I live in a back alley with no possessions and I plan on making myself useful to you in some way. I know everything about you and your mission coming up ahead, and I may or may not be insane!" - Guess Who?

"Wrex? Can you move this idiot?" - Shepster

"Hehe. Never thought you'd ask." - Uncle Wrex-ington

*Exit left via airmail*

* * *

...

Yeah that'll go well. So if I'm not useful in any way by that time, I'll just chill on the citadel until C-Sec detains me, or I die of starvation or similarly unpleasant means. At least I'm more intelligent than your average bum.

My understanding of basic suit functions is growing, but can be a pain-in-the-ass. Hungry again, will have to ration anything I can get my hands on. Gonna crash for the night, back in my alleyway. That's right, I own this part of the ward. I've set up a makeshift home, using the metal wall of the building beside me, the boxes and metal sheets I've scavenged from a nearby factory to make outer walls and a 'door'. Made some pillows from trash bags and got some blankets from other parts of the 'city'. Ward. Whatever. It's mildly comfortable, the smell doesn't bother me (lord save me if I were to lose the olfactory seals on my suit) and the noise is bearable. I can always shut the filters completely, but I'd rather have some sort of warning if someone were to invade my personal space. From the outside it barely looks as if someone took up residence. I'm proud of my handiwork.

Still... It's only been three days, and I'm already doubting my ability to live anywhere at this rate. What I'm doing now hardly constitutes 'living'.

* * *

**Cameos are gonna be a common occurence (from what I can tell so far) so that I can maybe repay the authors for the time they've allowed me to waste. Anyone who hasn't heard of said author and is interested can then be redirected to someone with true writing skills.**


	3. Well Met, Fatman

**Day 4; December 31st, 2182 (Found the calendar!)**

Me and my big fucking mouth. Got plenty of time now to review and record the actions of yesterplbbb2859y2 (yesterday).

Sorry, one of the humans just shoved me. Anyway, I'm sitting in a containment cell with a krogan and two humans. Was an exciting day, but not much happened. Might be here for a while so I'll summarize.

* * *

Today I woke with a massive headache. No doubt normally my suit would give me painkillers but I was fresh out. First things firs, gotta shuffle in my little settlement here... ah ha! FOOD! The second half of my chicken paste to be exact.

Mmm... Chicken paste. Some high level quarian cuisine right there! Gotta go out and get some more paste somewhere, but I'm still broke. No jobs hiring,. That sucks. Though not surprising.

Maybe if I shaved off the top of the bank... NO! Not yet at least! Gotta say, it's getting tougher to resist though. I don't wanna end up like your average thief or merc. I have standards I'd prefer to leave fairly high. What if... Hey! What if I were to contact Keiji Okuda or Miss Goto? If Mister Okuda is still alive that is. I never did find out when that happened. Or if it's even mentioned. That would also get me a solid way to spend time AND a lead to get onto the SR2, if I ever wanted to. ME1 was always my least favourite of the three games. Yes, I liked ME3 better. Even with the ending they had. Speaking of which, I should check up on the Normandy sometime.

Visited the clinic, Doc Michel fixed me up nicely. I had a broken appendage on my foot (toe?), cracked rib, headache was actually a minor concussion. So that's why I couldn't walk properly!

Nearly vomited... Lunch today consisted of some nasty-ass paste. Turian military style stuff. Gotta keep my food down, every little bit keeps me going for another day. Definitely feeling the lack of nutrition, and Doc Michel noted that as well.

Bumped into a turian, who promptly accused me of thievery. C-Sec showed up, took me into custody. Guy there was actually decent! Good change. Scanned his tool while he wasn't looking. Oxford University, degree in law, very solid career so far. Young too, far younger than what I'd expect from a detective. Blonde hair, British accent (I think; the Isles tend to morph together sometimes with the accents for me). Lives with Garrus Vakarian (apparently partners as well [didn't know G had a partner... huh]) and shows respect and disrespect to Head Boss-Man Pallin in equal parts. I like this kid. Ian Shaw. Until we meet again.

...

Hopefully we don't.

Next guy, obviously low on payroll, replaces him. Dealing with thieves isn't a high concern. Asshole McTurian blames me for the loss of his chit. I scan him. It's in his pocket, holding a MASSIVE (*deep breath*)...

...25 credits.

Seriously?

Cop-Guy gets him to check (after my discreet suggestion). Lo and behold! MAGICKA! McTurian turns right around and slams me with vagrancy charges. Yeah, fuck you too pal. No way to defend myself from that, got a few sympathetic looks, puppy-dog eyes almost worked. Can't pull the puppy eyes off that well when your eyes are like fucking stars in the goddamn Serpent Nebula (that's where the Citadel is, for you new folks).

* * *

Here I am.

That has got to be the fattest krogan I have ever seen. I note this aloud, dude says I've got a quad (what is with krogan and their 'quad' compliments?) for saying that to his face, then laughs and assures me that (and I'm 90% sure he's not lying) "I don't eat quarians. Those suits are too crunchy. Not to mention the protein differences. Humans though, nice and squishy. They taste kinda like Earth chickens when cooked."

Creepy, but still: suck it humans. They've been muttering this entire time. Not very subtly either. I'm glad I've got Fatman on my side, sounds like they want to kick my ass for just being alive.

Fatman says his name is Gatatog Gravol. Like the anti-nausea stuff. We swap info, agree to meet again and share stories after we're both out. Which could be a while from now, since he's wanted for cannibalism. Or something. He says it's bullshit, but just by the looks of him I wouldn't doubt if it were the truth.

Gravol. Oh the irony of it all.

* * *

**Ian Shaw is property of iNf3ctioNZ, used in his series Masses to Masses. Check it out, was one of the first fics I read here. That baby's got the KingHoborg seal of approval!**


	4. Post-Lockup

**Day 5, January 1st, 2183**

"Happy New Year, humans!" - Me

"Shut the fuck up, suit rat, before I shove your helmet tubes up your ass." - McShove-It (human.)

"Oh-Tay!" - Me.

"You know, you humans go well with ketchup and ryncol." - Fatman (Gravol.)

"Oh really? I never would have guessed!" - Me.

"Take it easy krogan. Don't wanna cause trouble here." - Purple Overwatch (Asari guard.)

"Oh don't worry! There won't be any trouble, unless they start it." - Me.

"Shut up quarian." - Punk (other human, truly a fountain of originality.)

"Trouble be startin' soon. I got your back if you got mine Fatman." - Me (followed by a quick 'Oh shit did I just say that out loud' thought.)

"You got it, Bucket. At least you won't need a pail if you can't handle the mess." - Fatman.

I love this guy. He's a krogan with a sense of humour, and he looks past the stereotypes. I definitely will be chillin' with this guy when he finally gets let out, which by the sounds of things will be in a few days if they can't find anything to pin on him. However IF I don't see him again, and you do (for reference: he's fat and yet still super muscular, with a green plate, forest green armour and some nasty scars on his arms and face. "Drink it in, Bucket. That is the physical embodiment of pain and desperation. Not mine. Heh."), tell that fat bastard I miss him already. He's the only friend I've made since I got here, so that makes him my ONLY friend whatsoever.

* * *

After a lovely evening with Fatman and the boys, C-Sec lets me out on the promise that I'd get a job and a home. Yeah right; I'll need some good luck for getting a job and I'm pretty sure I bottomed out on the luck scale when I first came here in the middle of a firefight. Sure enough the few places I check out won't hire quarians, exile scum or aliens. So I'm real pissed off now.

Waited till McShove-It was let out. He was simply in the 'drunk tank' for the night I guess. Swiped his credit chit, just sidled up to him and bang! Illegal actions performed: one (unless you count vagrancy, hacking into various appliances and accounts, or phishing for personal information). Had a few creds on him. Used them to buy some food. And cleaned my suit. It's not quite the same as a shower, but seems to have the same effect.

Still don't know what a quarian looks like under the suit. From simple feeling, they're (we're?) fairly hominid with sharper teeth. From the touch of my tongue, skin feels soft and I have no facial hair. Guess I don't need to shave? Handy. Wish that was possible as a human. Speaking of teeth, my suit seems to have some sort of cleaning function in conjunction with the feeding apparatus. At least I won't get a cavity. Ugh, cavities wouldn't just hurt, they'd probably have a good chance to kill a quarian.

Some sort of apple tasting paste today. Cops looking at me wierd, probably saw me at C-Sec. It's hard not to notice such a fashionable gentleman as myself. Or it was just the fact that they're watching for me. Went to investigate my exile. Not surprisingly there's no documentation of much of anything related to the Migrant Fleet here. On the other hand, I found some old (and I mean OLD) music I love to listen to and transferred it to my tool. Now when I'm chillin' out I can listen to Bonobo and do it properly.

Got released fairly late, so I spent most of the afternoon scanning and tagging rich people. It's ingenious! Now anyone I tag is noted on my HUD, though right now it does me little good. It'll show names, credit counts and other important things. If I focus on one, it'll expand to show less important information. You know, Raz is really suited to do these not quite legal activities... It's all just speculation, but I'm pretty sure I could gain enough creds through shaving the top off some businesses or richer people to live the rest of my life in peace. But do I really want early retirement? What do I want?

* * *

I think I might use the last of the creds from McShove-It to buy lunch tomorrow. Something nice. Perhaps socialise. I'm gonna look into Earth's past as well, maybe see if there's any mention of my (real) family and friends. I don't usually mention it, but it's getting harder and harder to keep those thoughts at the back of my brain.

Simply put: I'm getting homesick. Pretty damn quickly.


	5. Hey! I Know Her

**Day 6; January 6th, 2183**

I met another quarian while planning lunch, bought her some. She thanked me, of course, and said she'd find some way to repay me. _I_ was such an idiot; she seemed familiar and yet not so much. Younger I guess. More naive. Things went wrong pretty damn quickly.

* * *

Mmm... Chicken? Pizza? Some random dextro-shit? The possibilities are endless! Wow that is some real pastey paste. But seriously, what I wouldn't give for a real pizza. An honest to god, pepperoni and italian sausage cheese disc. Just the thought, it makes my heart skip a beat and my mo-

_**(Thump) **_"Keelah! Oh I'm so sorry!"

Could it be? Yes! It is! Another quarian! Keelah se'lai and all that shit. That purplish suit looks awfully familiar though... Nah, couldn't be.

"Whoa... Hey that's fine. Wasn't doing anything anyways." Besides daydreaming about a perfect, round pizza with - she's talking again.

"Are you on your pilgrimmage?" Ok, I'm picking up some confidence there. Good! Though I have no idea how she'll react to my 'situation', so I'll just try and avoid the topic for now. Until she and I are on more friendly terms.

"No. I live here."

"Why?" Oh shit. Time for Contingency Plan A!

"Look. You're here for food right?" Nod, good. "Ok then, let me buy you lunch, THEN we can talk. Sound good?"

"You'd do that?"

"Of course! Why not?" Oh I don't know, maybe cause you are homeless and broke?

"Ok! I'll get..."

**Fast Forward**

"...so this Klenon guy bought you a ticket off Omega? Quite the gentleman." I was impressed by her story so far, and this Klenon'Lehto sounds like a hero to me. |Other than him she hasn't used any names; which is both smart and vague at the same time. I just can't shake the feeling that she's important. Maybe I'm just an idiot (scratch that, I AM an idiot).

"Oh yes! He was. Though I am worried about him now."

"Of course. What did he look like? If I see him I can pass the news to you." Might as well, nothing else on my plate these days.

"White armour, blue sash and hood. He's a Fleet Marine. Biotic too."

Well fuck me sideways. "I saw that guy when I first got here! He and a krogan saved myself and multiple passengers on a transport from hijackers." That dude was insane(-ly talented, as opposed to my possible case of insanity).

"So we should exchange – I haven't even introduced myself properly! I'm Tali'Zorah nar Rayya. You can call me Tali!"

Huh. Guess we must be getting real close to gametime if she's out and about on her pilgrimmage (though I never thought hers would be so damn crazy before even meeting up with Shephard!) But that's the least of my worries. If she's Tali, then her father's an admiral. An admiral with info on what happened to me. Raz. Whatever. The point is that this is 'make-it or break-it' time. And if I know quarians, it'll probably be breaking.

"I... uh... I have a touch of amnesia. I know my name, but no ideas as to what I did before." Ok, she's accepting of that answer, until...

"Well? Maybe I can help you get memories back!" There's the helpful Tali poking through; I have no doubts you can help me.

"Umm... Raz. Raz'Tallen" Uh oh. I know that look. That's the 'GETH!', 'CERBERUS?!' or 'YOU BETRAYED ME!' look. That means she doesn't like what she hears. Maybe if I go straight up with her she'll understand.

Sure enough, cue loud gasping and scrambling away from me like I'm the plague incarnate. She just stands there, chest heaving (no doubt hyperventilating, poor thing). "The.. The exile?" There's no trace of trust left in her voice. All gone. Poof.

"But... But-"

"There was a reason I avoided that particular issue. Want to know more? Apparently I'm a skilled hacker and thief. No idea how. Latent memories I suppose. But I had, still have, no I idea what 'I' did in the past to get exiled. Please, sit dow-"

...

Yeah, smooth right? My impeccable charisma shows in the best of moments. I always aim to come across as an evil bastard to the ladies. I hear they love it. Please feel free to criticize me all you like.

...

"Shut up you bosh'tet! You... you... No!"

Well, as a consolation prize I guess I can say I formed a full sentence. And got this far. I don't bother to try to explain; she's too far lost in her own worries, her people's myths and Raz'Tallen's historic acts (whatever they were... I still don't know). She runs off, looked like she had been devastated that her new 'friend' was a [insert synonym for bastard here]. Her meal was finished, so she at least enjoyed a nice peaceful meal while she listened. Sigh. Hopefully I'll get another chance to make it up to her.

* * *

So quarians hate me. Or at least the soon-to-be most prominent one does. I don't feel like writing anymore. Good night.


	6. Scares, Tips and Shopping

**Day 7; January 7th, 2183**

T'was a rough day yesterday. I had a friend and lost her in record timing. Scratch that, I don't think I've ever had anyone walk out on me. And it hurts, because it had nothing to do with James and everything to do with Raz. And it was TALI'FUCKING'ZORAH. She is truly a one in seventeen million quarian.

I... I can't not think about it. I've been here a week and I don't know who I am or who I'm supposed to be acting as. Am I Raz'Tallen, exile, quarian, probably thief and general asshole. Or am I James Mansone, human, gamer, student and generally nice guy with a pinch of sarcasm? It's been bothering me for a few days, but yesterday was the first time it interfered with the 'life' I'm living.

I don't enter conversations with many people, but when I do I speak from my own experiences (but did they really happen?) Oh well, I hope answers given (or at least a sign) at some point but if they don't: killing myself over an existential crisis definitely is not the way to go.

In other news: not much happened! I pretty much forgot to do what I said I'd do. No surprises there!

* * *

**Day 8; January 8th, 2183**

Good news! I'm less miserable today. Wiped McShove-It's chit, it is now officially mine. Shaved one percent off the top of an overly rich lady.

1% somehow came out to a total of 20,000 creds. What idiot would walk around with two MILLION credits in their pocket!? The asari was walking at a quick pace, so I was naturally (for both James and Raz, it turns out) curious. I threw a tracking scan on her. I didn't recognise the name, but she was in a rush (sometimes redundancy is needed to get the point across, my friend).

She's going into an industrial district, kinda messy here. And we're talking from the view-point of a quarian who spent the last week with a back alley as a home.

Now she looks completely out-of-place, that yellow dress is picking up some shit I would hate to have to wash out. Thank god for grime resistant sashes. If I didn't know better, I'd say she's a touch nervous. Ok, checking her... shit, she checked her chit. Now she looks downright terrified, her body language showing that she does not want to keep going. This is big, whatever she's doing. I'm just gonna chill out here on this park bench that just so happens to face her way. She's entered the building. Thought I saw some guards, but I may have been mistaken.

And now twenty minutes late, chit total drops to zero. Obviously a drop off then. But that's a massive payment, for whatever it is she's paying for. Mercs? Pirates? Wait... Yep, tool has scanner for buildings (imagine that). OK! That's a lot of people. And most looks like they're holding big-ass guns. I am just gonna wa- OH SHIT! BACK SOON!

...

Back 'home', gunshot from inside the warehouse translated to "GTFO" in khelish... I was only too happy to listen. If I'm not careful, situations like that could turn out badly for me ('curiosity killed the quarian', so to speak). I'm gonna just chill, lay low for a bit. Maybe buy an apartment, or something tomorrow. Something small, safe, out-of-the-way. T'was a brutal reminder of a brutal world today.

P.S. Omni-Tool says, "Scanned Target ID: 56194 - Status: Deceased". Not good. Maybe I should tip-off C-Sec anonymously. I still have the address of that warehouse handy. Gotta make it clear these people are not to be fucked with.

P.P.S. Tip sent.

* * *

**Day 9; January 9th, 2183**

Went house shopping today. Found a nice and cozy apartment on Zakera Ward with a clean room and everything. C-Sec can suck it, no longer a vagrant am I (three cheers for hybrid Yoda-speak). I started to do some cross training as well, a little free-running. Raz kept in really good shape, it turns out. OK, this is creepy: I can somehow do crazy-cool parkour shit that I'd probably kill myself doing as my human self. Downloaded some more old music; stuff like FantomenK is worth using as free-running tunes. I'll be sure to note some of the really good stuff for different situations.

Went grocery shopping. That required quite the imagination (note: that was meant to be sarcasm, if you didn't catch it). Let's see: dextro paste, dextro paste or ... dextro paste? And fuck me that shit's expensive. I'm surprised quarians (or turians for that matter, can't forget our dextro-amino brethren) can live here with the prices of basic needs. Got some furniture upholstery cleaned. Exciting stuff.

Watching the news: apparently C-Sec got an anonymous tip leading to the busting of a huge drug ring. Millions of dol- credits (sorry) worth of red sand etc. Public thanks to the tipper. Please, hold your applause! Just doing my good deed... To make up for stealing 20,000 credits leading to the death of an (apparently) indebted asari.

* * *

**Day 10; January 10th, 2183**

Followed a routine I've developed overnight: wake up, breakfast, free-run, workout (kinda, still finding where I'm at), lunch, go out. Hopefully it doesn't look too out-of-place to see a quarian doing parkour.

...

You know what, never mind. Of course it looks out-of-place. Incredibly so. But I don't care. I'm gonna be ready for anything. Maybe I should look into some martial arts, since Raz turned out to be in pretty good shape (originally; my stint in the alley burnt my body out).

Perhaps a descriptive tour of my apartment is in order?

So: in the apartment, 11th floor, room 11 (hehe, I can't believe they actually had that available! [Eleven is my favourite number, btw]), you walk in the front door to be greeted by a hallway. Immediately left is a clean room (decently sized, if I had to guess I could comfortably take my suit off, but nothing much more than that), straight ahead is living room. In living room, I have a couch, TV (I know, I know, it's a holographic thinger, but I'm calling it a TV damn it!) and a window with a nice view over Zakera, if such a view exists. From there, two doors. One to a small kitchen: basic stuff; fridge, microwave-thingie, oven and lots of cabinet space for my paste. I've actually stored some canned soup for any visitors I may have in the future (I'll have to go shopping again to bolster those stocks). Going back through living room, straight across is door to bedroom. It's got a basic emergency steriliser (not very good though, so I won't be using it), a bed (just a queen size) with nice green sheets I picked up earlier today and some closet space for my lack of clothing.

I'm gonna go suit shopping tomorrow, and see what else there is to be done. My funds are already dipping low, so I'll have to go hunting (for rich people) again soon. It shames me to say this, but I'm playing to my strengths; right now every strength points to taking from those that can afford it. Though I'm going to be screening carefully. I don't want another dead asari on my conscience, one is bad enough.

P.S. Fatman is out of jail! Gonna chill with him tomorrow, already made plans for it. Plans including a lot of Ryncol for him, and lots of filtered dextro-OJ. Believe it or not folks, that _does_ exist! And it is delicious.

* * *

**I might start putting multiple small entries per chapter, where necessary (like this one). The words keep flowing, so the chapters keep coming; don't start to assume it'll be like this for the whole ride though.**


	7. ERROR DETECTED

**Day 11; January 11th, 2183**

Chilled with my single friend today. Damn, it felt good just to talk. He didn't care that I was exiled, he didn't care that I was quarian. All that mattered was that we shared a cell in C-Sec; even for just one night! Gotta say that we drew some looks from the crowd though. Flux was not normally host to a fat-ass krogan or a quarian; let alone both at the same time.

But boy did Gravol have stories to tell...

* * *

**Few hours later**

"So he just stood there? And took the hit?"

"Yeah. Stupid pyjak splattered his guts all across the pad."

"Keelah! So what were you doing on the citadel anyway?"

"Oh nothing really. I was trapped in a contract with some other mercs running a red sand circuit here. Wanted to get out. Speaking of which, C-Sec cleared them out while I was in, on behalf of an anonymous tip. I owe someone thanks."

...

Fate must have some weird-ass kind of fun with me, you know? Cause that's just too coincidental to be coincidence, if ya know what I mean.

...

"Oh really? Were they in a warehouse?" Grunt and nod. "On Tayseri Ward?" Nod. "Industrial zone?"

If he wasn't listening before, he is now. "What's your point Bucket?" My god his voice is so deep. Like Wrex, except lower.

"I... I sent a tip in. About an asari making a drop-off. Two million creds in pocket."

He grunts in affirmative, "They were waiting for the final deposit. And you say you found them?"

I lean in and whisper, "I, uh, I kinda... bolstered my finances using some of that." That voice of mine was reminiscent of Veetor'Nara, the poor guy at the start of Mass Effect 2. "I only took twenty thou, only one percent."

"You've got a quad, Bucket. Guess I owe YOU the thanks. But," he laughs then leans in and gives me an evil eye glare, "I don't like thieves." Ohshitohshitohshit, this was one guy I did not want to piss off; friend or not he was big, strong, scary and borderline psychotic from what I gathered from his stories.

Excuses? Not many: "Look dude, I was homeless, starving and fresh out of jail. I needed enough to purchase a home and food. No more." _'Weak-sauce, Mansone. You can do better.' _I don't back down, however, and keep eye contact with the vast lizard as best I could. After a few minutes he backs off a bit.

"Relax, Raz." What the fuck? He never calls me that. But he's chuckling, so that's good news (I think). Come to think of it, I'm here writing this now so you can imagine that I got out of there just fine, if a bit scared. He continues, "I was joking. In fact, I might be looking for a thief to help out in some jobs soon."

Mercenary jobs? Independent or with one of the big organizations? "Can I at least have some more intel, and time to consider your offer once it's given?" I don't wanna get caught in something too big.

"Of course! Now, let's get some turian brandy in you!" He slaps me on the back, hard enough to knock the air out of my lungs. Friendly krogan eh? What can you do?

* * *

[/: ERROR/ERROR/ERROR/ERROR/ERROR/ERROR/ERROR/ERROR/ERROR/ERROR:/]

[/: ERROR/ERROR/ERROR/ERROR/ERROR/ERROR/ERROR/ERROR/ERROR/ERROR:/]

[/: ERROR/ERROR/ERROR/ERROR/ERROR/ERROR/ERROR/ERROR/ERROR/ERROR:/]

[/: ANOMALY DETECTED/SECURITY SHUTDOWN INITIALIZED/ANOMALY DETECTED/]

[/:EMERGENCY SHUTDOWN DEACTIVATED/EMERGENCY SHUTDOWN DEACTIVATED:/]

[/:UNKNOWN FILE ACCESSED/SECURITY CLEARANCE FAILED/FAILSAFE ACTIVATED:/]

[/: VIEW ENTRY :/]

**Day [REDACTED]; [REDACTED], [REDACTED]**

God damn that was close. Those **[REDACTED]** were on our tail the entire getaway. Good thing **[REDACTED] **decided to have us split up and have multiple possible escape routes. I don't know how they figured out we were in the system, but they did.

* * *

Just gotta prime it. Voila! Now just gotta get back to **[REDACTED]** for exfil.

"Alright, **[REDACTED]**, we've got it all!"

"Excellent. We're just cleaning up the mess in the front lobby."

"Don't tell me **[REDACTED]** went on another blood-rage. You know we get in deep shit when that happens. Every time!" Seriously though, **[REDACTED]**, if you are reading this: GET CONTROL OF YOURSELF.

A deep chuckle fills the channel, "You're just jealous, **[REDACTED]**."

"Dealing with **[REDACTED]** after each and every job is not a desired outcome. Remember that even though you're the muscle of the group, doesn't mean you don't use your brain."

**[REDACTED]** enters the conversation, "Mess cleaned, Plan B set up, let's roll out. **[REDACTED]**, get the shuttle ready for pickup."

**[REDACTED]**,** [REDACTED] **and** [REDACTED] **begin to move back through the darkened hallways of the office portion of **[REDACTED]** while I finish up with the hacking device (think Brink style, just better).

"You got it sir. **[REDACTED]**, you get dow- What's this? **[REDACTED]**! Get down from there! They found us!" Whatever it is, **[REDACTED]** is scared and that doesn't happen easily. He's too experienced to get scared easily. He's fricken ex-**[REDACTED]**, for Christ's sake! I gather the remains of my tools and throw them into my bag. Can't bother to keep them organized right now.

I call in, "I thought we were clean-slate?!" The device comes off the wall, I look left and right down the hall I'm in. Clear, for now. I hear footsteps and voices from not too far away.

"Doesn't matter **[REDACTED]**! Just get out, fastest way possible." That means the window drop, onto some residential buildings. I think I can handle the fall. Device is now in bag, bag is over my shoulder, people round corner. I get a quick look; black suits, expensive guns, insignia on shoulders (couldn't get a good look in the darkness though). About face and CHEESE IT! Gotta get our prize out. I throw a flash-grenade over my shoulder at the commando-baddies. Sounds like I got a few stunned, won't last for long. Take a left, right, vault a desk and turn left through office door and window. I pull out my Predator and take a few shots at the tough glassy substance. It weaken enough that I can break through. I lead with my omni-breach out just in case, and leave a gift for the pursuing commandos in the form of a stun-grenade.

_Smash!Thump! _Shouts and orders right behind me, I actually feel the bullets zip by my helmet.

I drop down to the roofs, roll and keep running. Baddies soon behind, these guys aren't normal mercs or guards if they can keep up with me. Bullets ring out behind and, somehow, from above. I'm bobbing and weaving like a slalom champ. I look up to the source of the rapid fire. One bullet hits my arm, then another ricochets of my helmet. Lucky me. I crouch behind some cover but try to keep moving forward.

As I make another break for an open doorway on the next roof, I'm momentarily blinded by a searchlight.

...

"Is that a- Is that a gunship! **[REDACTED]**, please tell me that's not a- THAT'S A GUNSHIP!" It opens fire, I turn into an open stairwell. No contacts whatsoever.

**[REDACTED] **crackles in over comms in his pseudo-english accent, "Fire in the HOLE!" This is shortly followed by a muffled explosion throughout the apartment building I'm currently racing through. Another door up ahead, **[REDACTED] **is laughing like a madman. That will have been Plan B: bombs planted throughout the **[REDACTED]** to stem the flow of reinforcements to the outside world should we need to; nothing structurally damaging, night patrols neutralized and there were no civilians inside the offices (a perfect clean-slate operation; rather it was until the unknowns appeared).

Door opens up to a narrow alley. MY ALLEY! I'm covered from the gunship above, and the commando-baddies haven't exited the building yet. In a split second I activate a decoy to run straight ahead into the crowd of people milling about in the markets up ahead and dive headfirst into my hidden shelter on the citadel.

I hear the commandos run by, luckily they fell for my decoy. A searchlight from the gunship passes over my protective cover and follows the ground troops. I remain concealed. I check comms. All but myself are blinking, meaning they are safe. Radio silence is good. I lean back in the trash that once served as my bed, see to my suit rupture and bullet wounds, then relax a bit. _If_ I don't die of infection before morning I should be safe here.

* * *

And I was. I stumbled back towards **[REDACTED], **already feeling the effects of the infection. I'm the last to check in. The others are arguing over just what exactly caused such a force to appear so suddenly.

"Look. It doesn't matter who they are-" **[REDACTED]** begins, but is cut off by **[REDACTED]**.

"Yes it does! These guys almost busted us! And not in the friendly 'just don't do it again' C-Sec way. These guys broke in, and started shooting."

I shuffle around in my pack, everything is still intact. I sneeze; goddamn suit ruptures. Sleeping in a trash bin didn't help either. I pull out the device, which contains the data we lifted from **[REDACTED]**. Upload it to everyone's tools. In a synchronized motion they each looked down at the files.

A confused look crosses each person's face. This wasn't what our target was. No credits, no weapon/vehicle schematics. Nothing useful to us. We couldn't even read all of it, but something was not quite right. One particular note stood out to me. And it scared me. I'll upload the file here:

* * *

**_[REDACTED]_**_, _

_**[REDACTED]** and her team are close to their goal. The **[REDACTED]** aren't enough, we need to pull more resources from **[REDACTED]** and complete the **[REDACTED]**. You cannot fail me, especially after the **[REDACTED]** incident on **[REDACTED]**. The loss of the **[REDACTED] **has set back our forces considerably._

_**[REDACTED]**_

* * *

I looked up from my tool, "Not good guys, this is not good." For once in our time together, we all agreed.

**[REDACTED]** literally forces me into our makeshift operating room. She's such a B-I-T-aSFJkflds;

Our medical expert **[REDACTED] **is loved by all and we all greatly respect the effort she puts forth when us idiots come back from our jobs. We thank her for the time she devotes to mending the physical manifestations of our stupidity with the limited equipment and space we have provided. Thank you **[REDACTED]** for saving our lives time and time again.

[/: ERROR/ERROR/ERROR/ERROR/ERROR/ERROR/ERROR/ERROR/ERROR/ERROR:/]

[/: CLOSE ENTRY :/]

[/: SECURITY OVERRIDE ACTIVATED/RETURNING TO ENTRY 12/]

* * *

**This was my first attempt ever at making something of an action sequence. Hopefully it did not disappoint and hopefully it sheds some light on just where I believe I am going with this. It remains fairly vague, no characters are really mentioned, but it still gives me a direction to follow and a goal. As well as a tie-in to the rest of the galaxy around me. This is also the longest chapter so far.**

**Gonna make a list of Thank-Yous, while the list is still short. (As of the writing of this chapter)**

**I wanna say thanks to the reviewers so far: seth motley, FtDLulz, Reko-Luna, EyeFox, Relvain Jenafuse and Starspike.**

**Thanks also go out to those that favourited: EyeFox, benn55555 and seth motley.**

**Thanks going to followers: Azzim, Chris7221, FtDLulz, GingerNinja26, MaiaGen, Reko-Luna, Relvain Jenafuse, Starspike7, TheFlamingBlade, TheWABEN, benn55555, fanfiction2010, rockobrocko and seth motley.**

**Big thanks to those that gave me advice on writing in general: Starspike7 and JustAFerret.**

**It's you guys that make me wanna continue doing this and improve my writing as a whole.**


	8. Goodbye

**Day 12; January 12th, 2183**

Fuck my back hurts! Gravol and his damn back slaps, hugs, even his handshake shook me to the core. Not to mention I had to carry his fat ass to my apartment. I swear if he breaks my couch... I'll...GAH! I can't even threaten to do anything he's so goddamn huge! He'll just laugh! I'm going to the clinic.

...

Update on the back issue: physiotherapist looked and popped it back into place in three fucking places. Went hunting, came in with a considerable catch. Followed up with a library trip; I wanna learn how to create a V.I. Something to help out around the house or on whatever delusions of grandeur I have in the future. Which could be arriving in ship loads. A true AI would be incredible to pull off, we could chill and scheme together. Hehe.

...

First time using the clean room. We've got a mirror, good. Wow, this feels weird on my skin.

Ok, time to document what I'm seeing. Skin is kinda hominid, with purplish tinge, and soft. Three fingers are vaguely reminiscent of humans, just thicker and... claws? The fuck? Huh. Ok, moving up we've got standard human-like arms. Ok, chest area (shit I'm jacked, hehe) there are, what the fuck? We've got small bits and pieces of cybernetics? Or something? The package is normal (that shit's personal, people). Legs are normal, down to knees. Thin shins bend backward as per outside view. And the feet are huge! Scratch that. The feet are just fine. The toes, however, are enormous! Same clawlike nails as the hands. All appendages are quite flexible too. I'm so goddamn ticklish! OK ok. Whew.

Now the big one. Mask off, helmet off. Fully out of suit now. That's a nasty draft in this completely sealed off room. Look up at mirror. Jaw drop. New Me is just like Old Me. Quarian Raz is like a twin to human James! Same brow height, same straight nose, mouth is same straight look. Only difference is the appearance of cybernetics giving my eyes a soft white-ish glow, some scars running down my cheek, my hair is longer and my teeth are sharper. The entire look is rather stunning, if I do say so myself.

Overall, it's actually not that big of a change. It's a huge burden off my shoulders, knowing I'm kinda attractive by human standpoints. Though by quarian standards I could, for all I know, be an ugly motherfucker. I doubt it. Who wouldn't love such (mostly) natural beauty?

...

Back in suit. Moving through material quicker than expected. I created a shell no problem. It's about as much a Virtual Intelligence as Pinocchio was a man, but it's definitely a start. Tali left the Citadel; yes I was keeping an eye on her, whether she hates my guts or not. Gravol is still snoring in the next room. When I'm rich I'm gonna sound proof one room for his surprise visits. Shit. It's fucking 4 PM. Might as well go grab him some eats.

...

IT IS ALIVE!

...

Gravol insisted on devouring all my levo-amino food. Every can of soup. He is NOT staying at my house. Not a single night. I'm gonna go tell him now.

...

He's staying the night. FML.

* * *

**Day 13; January 13th, 2183**

Got up to do routine. Gravol is drooling. It's like this viscous greenish tinged shit. I'm gagging just writing about it. My upholstery is ruined. Guess this is what friends do, eh? Wait-a-minute... Is he sucking on his thumb? Holy shit he is! Blackmail time! This is definitely what friends do. Fist pump of glory.

...

Bought some more levo food. Set aside several portions (a goddamn pyramid of the shit) for Gravol with some huge-ass arrows leading him AWAY from the kitchen to a coffee table holding HIS food. Successfully made a simple VI. It shows a small hologram of a quarian middle finger and loops "Fuck. You. Fat-ass." in a Microsoft Sam-esque voice and only responds to 'Shut down' with a hologram of a wonderful can of soup. It is magnificent. I set it up near the stockpile of food for Gravol. I leave to go suit shopping.

...

I pick some different colours and patterns of sash/hood combos. Bought a pistol. It's a Kassa Razer VII. I'm broke again.

...

Not anymore.

...

I walk in the apartment door with my stuff, Gravol is practically incapacitated with booming laughter. He 'likes my style'. He makes me feel loved. A decent change from the masses of aliens out in the market who thinks quarians are a bunch of vagrants and thieves. Pah!

Gravol is heading home (Omega, of course).

"Keep in touch, suit rat." are his ever endearing words as he locks me in a hug that re-injures my back. He says he'll be back; apparently I'm good enough a reason to return to this 'shit hole'. I remind him that he is going to Omega. He laughs and close the door behind him.

...

He's gone. My one friend on the citadel (and no I don't count the Finger VI I made today). I'm actually quite sad. He's a real bro. Physiotherapist gives me an odd look as I walk in the clinic. I warn him against bromances with krogan. Ironic thing is that the therapist is salarian, so I doubt I really needed to tell him that. He fixes me. "Thanks doc."

...

Raz is a fucking genious of a quarian. I found plans for various omni-tool functions. Door breachers, hackers, flashlights and the all-powerful omni-blade! Shit that doesn't show up until Mass Effect 3, right here on my tool! I could monopolize this shit!

Future is looking bright, for once.

* * *

**Day 14; January 14, 2183**

NEVERMIND! He just stole the plans from some industry, putting the production behind schedule by years. Try and monopolize and it'd draw attention to me as the thief and no doubt get me jailed. I can't have that; though my friend making results are definitely at a higher rate in jail than out. Maybe I should get jailed. Might meet some people, make friends, make a daring escape and live my life in a crew of wanted criminals doing crazy jobs and getting payed big. Then die a horrible death at the hands of the geth when they hit the citadel, cause my luck is just that fucking good.

Took out my energy on Bachjret Ward. Beautiful place. Lots of empty areas, perfect for free-running.

Near perfect VI created. Raz was near salarian level intelligence, I swear to god. I need some high quality cores for the big experimenting sure to come soon. I can smell an AI coming soon! I might name it... Never mind. Bad memories, best left in the past. Let's look at the news. I sit down near a massive stain on my couch. I'll need a new one of those, Gravol broke the damn thing.

News of big thefts on Kithoi Ward. Various paintings of high value stolen. I'm gonna look into that tomorrow, though I think I already know who did it. Blondie and G-Man made appearances in an interview. Garrus looks pissed. Shaw looks pissed. I'm pissed. Director of the Museum is pissed. Everyone in the background looks pissed.

It's a good day to be pissed.


	9. Multiple Medications

**Day 15; January 15th, 2183**

There are some peculiar looking people having an argument. Four of them, going back and forth. I hack a tool to listen in.

I can't fucking believe this shit! They're arguing over whose FanFic character would win in a fight to the death! And here I thought I could get some good intel off them. I move to a new spot. 'ID 1345' is relaxing by a fountain. With a lot of money on him; swiped. I took half this time, I'll be set for a long while now.

Bought some basic cores, gonna tinker with them a bit. VI's are getting more and more complex now. What's on the new... Shepard. That has to be her! Auburn-ish hair, strong features, all five foot seven inches of... something. I've got my first chance to latch a tracking signal on her tool. Damn, military grade hardware is tough to break. Got it! Hey is that Nihlus? I dodge around a corner. Yeah that is him. If they're both here, then the Normandy must be too. And that means Eden Prime's "simple mission" is in a few days!

After lunch I'm going to leave my stuff at home and go for a walk. Maybe meet some people.

**Day 16; January 16th, 2183**

[/: ACTIVATE VOICE ENTRY:/]

"This sucks, it really does. I go for a nice long walk... Alone... And... *cough ... this shit happens. Keelah, I'm glad I left my shit at home. I'm at the Hospital right now, not some clinic. I got jumped by a bunch of turians and barely left with my life."

...

"They ended up breaking my left arm, nearly all my fingers... Well, I broke some of my fingers by trying to punch a turian in the stomach. Brilliantly planned, Raz. Jason. Whoever the fuck I am. I'm actually inside a clean room out of my suit; though the bruises covering my body could easily have passed for some kind of kinky costume."

...

"I never liked hospitals. I spent a whole bunch of time there early in my life with various life-threatening illnesses and seizures. It's the feeling you get, know what I mean? Like everyone's depressed to shit, except the nurses. And they are wearing these forced smiles everywhere you go. I mean- WHAT!? YEAH I'LL TAKE THE MEDS. Fuck! That's my other point: they never leave you totally alone. It's lik- I HEARD THAT!- They never let you think to yourself."

...

"I just want to leave. Not just the hospital. I really just want to get out of this goddamn place. I've made a decent life here so far, I've had goals, I've reached some of them. The only problem is that I've broken some particular rules that would have been taboo elsewhere. You know what I'm talking about. So I just want out of – NO I'M NOT GONNA COMMIT SUICIDE! Keelah; I'm not that stupid. Just in case I am I'm gonna fill this room with glorious tunes."

...

_Well, I met an old man_  
_Dying on a train._  
_No more destination,_  
_No more pain._  
_Well he said_  
_"One thing, before I graduate_  
_Never let your fear decide your fate..."_

_..._

_"Think I'm stranded but I don't know where_  
_I got this diamond that don't know how to shine_  
_In the sun where these dark winds wail _  
_And these children leave their rulers behind _  
_As we cross ten leagues from a Rubicon _  
_With matchsticks for my bones_  
_If we could learn how to freeze ourselves alive_  
_We could learn to leave these burdens to burn_

_Cast out these creatures of woe_  
_Who shattered themselves_  
_Fighting a fire with your bare hands_

_Now my journey takes me further south_  
_I want to hear what the blind men sing_  
_With their fossils and their gypsy bones_  
_I'll stand beside myself so I'm not alone_  
_And how can I make new again_  
_What rusts every time it rains?_  
_And the rain it comes and floods our lungs_  
_We're just orphans in a tidal wave's wake_

_If I wake up and see my maker coming _  
_With all of his crimson and his iron desire_  
_We'll drag the streets with the baggage of longing_  
_To be loved or destroyed _  
_From a void to a grain of sand in your hand"_

...

"I'm gonna be let out of the clean room soon, and cleared to go home. Singing has been keeping me relaxed for the last few hours I've been bedridden for, except that last one. That one almost made me cry; it was so relevant to my 'situation' it's not even funny, BUT it also gets me in the thought that I CAN just push through this."

"Nurses staring through the windows of my room are thinking I've gone mad, if my reading of facial expressions are not impaired. Gravol wishes me well; the poor soul is working for Aria at the moment, doing odd jobs and getting low pay. He loves it."

...

"Home sweet home! Doc says I can't use my fingers until tomorrow morning at least. Nothing was stolen, good news. Bad news, can't eat properly. Got nothing to do but say good night. So good night."

[/:END VOICE ENTRY:/]

**Day 17; January 17th, 2183**

MEIN FINGAHS, ZHEY VERK! And now to work. I think I can piece together a decent AI core today, though this will be my shortest journal entry on a single day yet.

...

It is done. Gravol surprised me with a message, copying here:

* * *

_Bucket,_

_Heard you got out the hospital OK. You'll pull through, you have been through worse. I've got something to make you feel better._

_I've got a contact on the Citadel, she's asari. I want you to meet her at Flux in 20 minutes._

_Don't die of infection on me,_

_Gatatog Gravol_

* * *

Well then. Time to be off.

...

Walked in Flux, stared at (as per usual). Walked up to bar, ordered a Dextro-OJ (I swear I'm the only person who orders that [But it's so good!]). Human woman beside me glances in my direction, actually spits at my feet, and leaves. Good. I've already got enough of an ego boost from 'Cultural Lessons'. An asari looks over at me, gives me sympathetic look, then walks over. She's actually quite beautiful, young (for an asari, anyway), standard blue skin, no markings on her soft features and is wearing a good-looking but still practical teal dress. She sits, and greets me in a soft voice,

"You Gravol's friend?"

I raise an eyebrow (whatever good that did) and tilt my head towards her.

"I am A friend of his, probably not his only one." I reply.

"Ah. Yes, well he has made quite a few over his lifetime. He likes you quite a bit." Well that is reassuring. She continues, "He contacted me about you specifically. I had a favour to owe him from a long time ago, and he called it in."

What? "What?" He used a favour for me? "And what does this favour he called in entail?"

She shifts, a bit uncomfortably I notice. _That_ kind of favour; I got it now. "Whatever it is you want to do, I can do." she says; her eyes are flicking around the bar, avoiding eye contact.

"Hmm... You have any thoughts on this?" I don't want to do anything she's uncomfortable with. She snaps her eyes toward me.

"No. I'm here to repay Gravol for when he saved my life, I'll do anything." Whoa what? I guess that showed physically as well, because she continued, "From pirates." Well shit! Gravol _has_ done a thing or two in his life, aside from drooling on my couch or chilling in jail cells.

"Well then." Might as well be frank, haha. "I'm a bit short on friends. Not many people make a habit of talking to someone like me, not even my own species." Wow, that just sounds like a sob story for the ages. "So, shall we just talk? I'm Raz'Tallen nar Tasi vas Nedas, genuinely pleased to meet you, Miss...?"

"Marya. My name's Marya." I doubt she expected that simple of a request, but she's rolling with it! Tonight is showing some promise.

...

Turns out she's quite the intelligent young asari (sitting at the age of 76). She's spent a large portion of that time studying xenobiology, and is incorporating it with medicine of both modern technology and true organic types. She's waaayy out of my league intellectually, at least in that area. She 'enjoyed our talk and looks forward to meeting again in the future.' Which means a second date not forced upon her by a krogan! And... wait... omni-tool just bleeped. Oh. Gravol says I should continuing to 'making him proud', and that I'll be 'mating soon.' That remains to be seen. Or felt. Or whatever happens when asari meld. It's not of importance, I'm not feeling 'love' toward Marya; we talked for two hours for Christ's sake!

On a more important note, I've noticed that Tali is sitting around near the Veil (the Perseus Veil, that is) and Shepard is heading straight to Eden Prime. Tomorrow I'm gonna follow through with Stage 1 of my Grand Plan for dealing with the Heroes of Mass Effect. Gotta get some sleep before painkillers wear off.

* * *

**Song lyrics were from Kill Your Heroes by AWOLNATION, and Orphans by Beck.**


	10. Creation Theory

**Day 18; January 18th, 2183**

Big day today. I've got a couple of things on my plate. Shepard is almost to Eden Prime, so I gotta do that first. Oh yeah, I haven't mentioned my Big Plan. It goes like this.

I spy on them, and send Shep hints in the form of e-mails and messages from different accounts. So... I'll start by trying to use 'ID 583' (aka 'darkspawn678') to send message number one; which I will post below. I will then erase any evidence of sending the message from the 'sender' and block any responses from Shep and attempt to reroute her messages to me if she tries to respond. She won't be able to get through to the sender, or me directly, and will have some sort of clue to act upon. Which will be as vague as single words. Example below.

* * *

_Shepard,_

_Eden Prime. Geth. Teams. Jenkins. Death. Williams. Nihlus. Betrayal. Station. Bombs. Beacon. Vision._

_Good luck,_

_A Stakeholder_

* * *

And... send.

...

It works! It fucking works! I just gotta keep cycling accounts as I send messages, one per mission.

...

I never did look into that museum heist, did I? Damn. Guess I got caught up in a beat down. I'll have to keep my eyes and ears open for another big grab. Speaking of grab, I'm gonna grab a bite to eat and get to work on my AI.

...

Basic coding is complete. That took hours to make perfect, only stopping to eat. My fingers and arm are still quite stiff and sore. My eyes are killing me. Tomorrow I'm going to set the shackling bits and pieces and start her up. Her, you heard me, Her. I've decided that my universal AI rules say that simulated females are easier to talk to and understand. Whether that be Cortana or GlaDOS, they've always stood out to me. Sue me, I'm human. Or quarian. I think I'm just gonna sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee... (x5 pages).

...

_*Bleeep_

...eeeeeeeeeeeee Huh, what? Oh. Well that could be... Yes it is. Here you go.

* * *

_Stakeholder,_

_I'm not sure if I should trust you, you who has access to my Personal Messages. It's quite obvious you are not 'darkspawn678', so who are you really?_

_You were confusing at first and I dismissed the message immediately; however as we progressed through the top-secret mission you somehow knew about, things fit into place. More than once I pulled out the message to double-check. You may have saved Cpl Jenkins' life with that warning. Nihlus... Is another story. Still, I approve of your actions in some regards, and disapprove in others._

_You did nothing about Eden Prime. You could have warned the colony, or something. Yet you didn't. That, and the enigmatic means of contact, are the reasons I do not fully trust you._

_We are returning to the Citadel. We should set up a meeting. Your intel could be of great use to the Alliance in this development._

_Commander Jillian Shepard_

_Alliance Navy_

* * *

Well that could have gone worse. Saved Jenkins at least. I am not going to meet her though, not yet. Too early. Wait-a-minute... Has it been that long, is it even...? Ooops, next entry.

* * *

**Day 19; January 19th, 2183**

I guess I get to have an early start on AI's finishing touches. I just hope I don't cause a galaxy-wide catastrophe. Like Joker says in ME2: "When we're all just organic batteries, guess who they'll blame? 'This is all Raz's fault. What a tool he was. I have to spend all day computing pi because he plugged in the overlord."

...

GOOD NEWS EVERYONE! I haven't managed to threaten the whole universe with my idiocy, and I managed to create an AI! And she's rather shy... Here:

[/:START AUDIO FILE :/]

_*Whistling..._

"And... Here we go!" - Raz

*_Core booting, projector running_

"Ughh... piece of shit. Gotta get some..." - Raz

*_Unintelligible grumbling, followed by clanking and a snap-fizzle_

"AH HA! I knew it! And here we are." - Raz

*_Unintelligible speaking_

"Fuck. Forgot to install language shit." - R

*_Metallic tinkering_

"... Are you my creator?" - AI

"Whoa, whoa! Let's get this out of the way first! I may have created you, but we are not on different levels. I'm Raz, and I would prefer you call me by that; though you are free to call me by whatever you like. Now. Let's start with a name; I don't wanna call you AI all the time." - R

"... But that is what I am. I am an artificial intelligence." - AI

"We are not going through this bullshit. You are an individual, got that? And an individual needs a designation. Here, I'm going to hook you up to a... Here you go. Take a look and see if there's anything you like." - R

"... What about these?" - AI

"Those are all beautiful names. Choose one." - R

"... Serena." - Serena (AI)

"Serena... I like it..." - R

*_Sniffle_

"Well, Serena, how about we learn a few things first." - R

...

"I'd like that." - Serena

[/: END AUDIO FILE:/]

We proceeded to learn about the history of AI. I've made sure she understands BOTH sides of the Morning War (quarian/geth war) and why it has changed how just about the entire galaxy views AI. She knows what the rachni did, and what everyone else did afterwards. She UNDERSTANDS! I told her that I would have to hide her, she was sad but understood the concept of forgiveness; she says she forgives the quarians for their mistake and organics in general for their ignorance and fear. I have never been more proud of anything, or anyone in my entire life.

Serena is like my child. I will protect her from anything, or anyone who threatens her, as if she were my own flesh and blood. She may be nothing but electronics and a voice, but she means more to me than anything in this universe. Hopefully she and I can work together to do big things.

Next we moved on to a visual construct for her.

[/:BEGIN AUDIO FILE:/]

"So, Serena, how would you like to have an image?" - Raz

"... You would do that for me?" - Serena

"Of course! Why wouldn't I?" - R

"... Because..." - S

...

"Go ahead, Serena." - R

"Because I'm a monster...?" - S

"Hey! Don't think that! You are not a monster. You are Serena; you are nothing that you choose not to be. You define who and what you are at every moment and every choice. If you are afraid of what happens to you if you are caught out, you can pretend to be an advanced VI." - R

"I... Believe you." - S

"Believe in yourself. You can do great things, big and small." - R

"... I understand." - S

"Alright. Visual constructs. We have some options here. We can start with something simple, one of the temporary forms I already have, OR I can start from scratch with your help. What would you like?" - R

*_Click_

"There are the options we have so far. You can choose from that until you have decided what you truly want to look like." - R

"Ok." - S

*_Whirring_

... (Several minutes of silence)

"Is this form acceptable?" - S

"Did... Did you make that?!" - R

"Yes... Did I do it wrong?" - S

"No! That is... more than acceptable. [*_quieter_] Is this what you wish to appear as?" - R

"Yes. I believe this is what I wish to look like." - S

"This... You are beautiful, Serena." - R

"Thank you, Raz." - S

"If I may ask, Serena, how did you... Why did you create this yourself?" - R

"You said I should believe in myself." - S

*_Uncontrolled sobs, sniffles_

"Raz. Why are you sad?" - S

"I'm not. [*_sniffle_] I'm proud of you." - R

[/:END AUDIO FILE:/]

I have not been so emotional for many events in my life. What Serena accomplished was beyond astonishing. The image she created was that of a human female with long, dark brown hair, green eyes, a small nose, round face with angled features and a modest body. She can be mistaken for a true human, which gives me some ideas for 'calling' her if and when I need help. I must admit I did not expect it to go this smoothly; I was experimenting with some coding that should not have worked, yet here we are less than twenty four hours later! Granted she is still quite unsure of herself. That is a unique personality, and I do like it.

We spend the rest of the day talking about the importance and dangers of purpose, hacking, home, companionship. All important things. I slowly let down the defenses I set up. I stress that she must be careful when extranet surfing and that she can ask me about anything. I work on building up the console for Serena, and set up a few backup cores so she isn't completely lost if something bad happens. She also learns how to interface with my suit and omni-tool. Handy thing, that. There was an interesting conversation that we had, just before I went to bed.

[/:BEGIN AUDIO FILE:/]

*_Loud clanging noises_

"Raz...? RAZ!?" - Serena

*_Thump, unintelligible cursing_

"Aargh... What's up?" - Raz

"Why did you create me? You are quarian, and the risks with AI being illegal! Why do this?" - S

"Well... I was wondering if you would be able to join me and help me on my adventures." - R

"Of course I can help you! But you did not answer my question... By all rights you should hate AI, not breathe life into them." - S

*_sigh_

"Serena... I am not a typical quarian. I have had... issues. I was exiled from the Fleet, for reasons I do not know, and then there is my amnesia and various other related topics. It is of utmost secrecy, do you understand?" - R

"I will respect your request, but what do you mean by 'Issues'?" - S

"I am, at it's most crude explanation, two people in the same body. There is me, and the person who came before me." - R

"I do not understand. You are Raz, are you not?" - S

"My body, history and partial memories, are Raz. My... soul... is not. That part of me is- was James Mansone, a human from Earth in the early twenty-first century. I somehow ended up here, in this body you see here. I don't know how it happened, but the result is two beings sandwiched in the same form." - R

"I see. Do you miss your home?" - S

"Yeah... More than I ever have. But I know things useful to this 'alternate dimension', and I wish to use that knowledge until I might be able to find a way back, where all my old friends and family are." - R

"I... understand. I will do everything in my power to help you. However, I have one question: If you are able to go back, will... I... be left here?" - S

"Not if I can help it, Serena. Now, was there anything else at the moment?" - R

"No, thank you. I am... feeling much better now." - S

[/:END AUDIO FILE:/]

She is asking me why I am writing this now, I explain that I wish to document everything that happens to me and around me of importance. And this is of huge importance. I alert Serena to the fact that I'll be going to sleep a happy quarian. She smiles.

"Good night Serena." I say.

"Good night, Raz. And thank you." Serena replies.

All this is giving me the warm fuzzies.

* * *

**Holy shit it was hard to see this situation come to a head, though I have argued with myself that it may be too soon already for this. But here it is, nonetheless. The song that I was listening to while writing the Serena/Raz conversations is called Nothing Left to Say/Rocks by Imagine Dragons. I actually came to tears at one point. I think that was more because of the memories of people I have lost, rather than gained.**

**Also, if you were wondering why call myself "A Stakeholder", well I have stakes in this universe! And the stakes are high.**


	11. Developments

**Day 20; January 20th, 2183**

Something is up with this Shaw kid. He knows things, I can just feel it.

Let me explain: He is wanting to join Shep. That can't happen! It's not in the cards. He's an anomaly. An Unknown. I can't account for his actions, and he will definitely affect everything around him. But how can I separate him from the commander? I could just kill him... or, no! Not that! I am not a killer. But I could injure him. Hack a cab with him in it and bring it to crash. Or find out who his friends are and try to manipulate him. But the problem there lies not with Shaw, but with Vakarian. The two are inseparable now. I take Shaw out, and Vakarian could be compromised for his mission; I can't have that. WE can't have that. Aargh, what do I do? They aren't leaving until tomorrow afternoon, so I do have some time before it's done.

But why is he even here? Come to think of it, why am I even here...? Could he be like me? Nah, couldn't be. What happened to me was unexplainable, undefinable and most definitely unrepeatable. But if it is possible. I think... I hope... But _if _he is like me, could he have answers to the questions I have? No-no-no, too many ideas, not enough time. I need to take things one step at a time: Step 1, get Ian Shaw away from Garrus and Shepard.

...

Wow. Today was sure interesting. As such my priorities have shifted: Step 1, STAY ALIVE. Perhaps a bit of explaining is in order.

* * *

I was sitting across the Presidium lake, watching Shepard like a hawk. Time to send message number two, via ID 68453 aka 'firstc0ntctking' . (Seriously? What kind of... Nevermind.)

* * *

_Shepard,_

_Dismissal. Calm. Opportunity. Turian. Krogan. Help. Clinic. Hostage. Appendage. Double-Cross. Quarian. Evidence. Presentation. Congratulations._

_The human ambassador is a jack-ass, and the turian councilor is as flexible as a cement brick. Don't mind them. Good luck._

_A Stakeholder_

* * *

I send, Shepard receives. At first she furrows her brow, but then I see her glance at Udina and stifle a laugh. A shout interrupts my spying. I look across the peaceful sea of civilians eating at this restaurant towards the source. Just my luck, it's Punk and McShove-It. And they brought friends, all human (odd). And some rather nasty looking guns and blades (are those things even legal!?). They're pointing at me, start moving through the crowd towards me. Making a scene. Fuck, there's like eight of them. I won't be able to fight them. I don't want to fight them. They've got weapons! That maim and kill you! I have almost nothing, just my brain and limited omni-tool capabilities (which I haven't trained for combat with, only espionage). I'm gonna have to run. At least let me finish writing this paragraph.

...

I ended up flipping the table at McShove-It and Company, and pulled the old "Behind you!" trick. And it worked, the idiots. I vaulted the safety bar and landed on the level below, and began to sprint away from the Company. Oh hey! There's Marya! I wave as I bolt past the stores lining the Presidium. "Hey Marya! Bye Marya!"

"Raz? Hey! Where are you..." she fades out. The Company barges past her, leaving her to cry out (I can't hear her properly). I duck around a corner, left, right, vault a box here and there. Into an alley, turn into another, Company still follows. Just gotta lose the- *_Thump_

That happened to be a body. A female quarian body, by the sounds of it. Whatever, I can still get up and go. I call up Serena for some directions to a place near home. "Serena, I'm in a teensy bit of a-"

"Wait! YOU!? Ughh!" I know that voice. She knows mine. She hates me. Can only be one person.

"Tali you need to shut the fuck up and move. Serena, if you wouldn't mind sending me-"

"NO! You. Stupid. Bosh'tet! After what you did on the Fleet, did you honestly believe I would listen to yo-" I tune her rant out. The Company is getting closer, drawn by her voice I imagine. And to think I thought I'd lost them. Curse you Tali'Zorah!

"Here are the coordinates I believe you are asking for." Serena's soft voice reports, as a clear path appears on my HUD. She's learned quickly.

"Thank-you, Serena. Tali? TIMES UP. MOVE!" I lean back and put all my weight into a shove. She falls backwards down the narrow alley with a yelp. I step over her carefully, "Sorry, had to be done. Shall we continue this some other time?"

I think she says something like this:"Gaaahhh!" I don't know, I didn't want to stick around

I look back over my shoulder just as the Company rounds the corner. Tali is bowled over as she attempts to right herself.

After a bit more running, and more than a bit more cursing, I reach my destination: a fast travel car has been called already. Bless you, Serena. I jump in and get it going back to my apartment as quickly as I can. I curse my general lack of fingers, but they get the job done. I look back through the window of the car. McShove-It and Company are looking winded and pissed off. Some are coated in grime and the Dextro-OJ I had on the table I flipped at them. What a waste. I'll be sure to return tomorrow and pay for damages. _Bleeep! _Uh oh. That must either be Shep or Marya. _Bleeep! _Or both. Marya first...

* * *

_Raz,_

_I don't know what you were doing with those men after you, but I'm worried. What did you do to be deserving of their wrath? I expect a truthful answer._

_Marya_

* * *

Well, the truth now? I guess it won't hurt. I send a message back directly. Instead of explaining the few seconds in between each message, I'll just post the individual messages here.

* * *

_Marya,_

_They were just a couple idiots I met with Gravol in C-Sec. They didn't like me from the first look. I may have provoked him one or two times..._

_Razzington_

* * *

_Raz,_

_Those guys weren't just 'a couple idiots'. I recognised a few of them! They belong to a local gang from Tayseri. I may have just met you, but I do consider you a friend so consider my next words wisely: you CANNOT just go around pissing people off! You will get yourself, and the people around you hurt!_

_Marya_

* * *

_Marya,_

_I didn't 'just go pissing them off'. They wanted to beat the shit out of me, only reason they didn't was because I had Gravol. I made sure that they knew that._

_Razputin_

* * *

_Raz,_

_So why are the local gangs around Tayseri talking about a quarian who stole a credit chit from one of the top lieutenants of The Purists? Or picking fights with members of The Claws? They describe a quarian with a suit EXACTLY LIKE YOURS. The Claws forgive and forget, because the quarian got beat. Badly. With injuries quite similar to yours._

_The Purists are another matter. They are small, pro-human, and vicious._

_Marya_

* * *

_Marya,_

_Well then. I shall have to watch my back. For the record I did not fight the Claws on purpose. They cornered me. Whatevskies, it is done._

_Eventually I will have to deal with these Purists, one way or another. Only problem is that I don't know what I can do about it. And on the topic of the Purists, how the fuck do you know this shit?_

_Razzzzzzzzzzz_

* * *

_Raz,_

_I just do._

_Look: I might be able to help you out with this problem, but I'll need to get in touch with a friend of mine. And before you think Gravol, he's still busy on Omega._

_We will talk tomorrow. Don't do anything stupid. Or rather, don't do anything more stupid than usual._

_Marya_

_P.S. You did not deny the theft of that chit, don't think I missed that._

_P.P.S. 'Whatevskies'?_

* * *

That sounds ominous. But the truth rings throughout her messages. I have been careless, and may soon pay the price. Marya sounds less and less innocent every message I get from her; something is definitely going on there. And... holy shit it's getting late. Better check Shep's message.

* * *

_Stakeholder,_

_Listen. You and I are going to meet. Tomorrow, at Buster's Dextro/Levo BBQ. 12 o'clock sharp. No excuses. If you are not there, I will have no reason to trust you. I hope you make the right decision here. There will be a reserved table under Shepard. Party for 2. We will discuss things then._

_On a lighter note, you were only too right about the politicians. I wanted to smack Udina upside the head multiple times today. That would have been frowned upon by no one but him._

_Commander Shepard_

_Alliance Navy_

* * *

Shit. She's calling me out. But I can't! I could... Yes! I could leave her a message explaining some things. Not everything. I'll need Serena's help with that though.

...

Ok! Message is created. I recorded my own voice, then used some editing software pirated and improved with the help of Serena. I now sound like a beast; think Shadow Broker distortion. Now to get it to its destination witho- _Bleep! -_t being seen. The fuck? It's Marya again... Oh no. But yes! This kinda works, sort of.

* * *

_Raz,_

_Meet me at Buster's Dextro/Levo BBQ. You said you liked human style food, right? Then be there at 12:00 Noon. I'll have a table booked for 3, under the name "T'Yura". And no, that is not my real last name. My friend will meet us there, then we will plan for dealing with the Purists. BE THERE._

_Marya_

* * *

What the fuck did I get into?I'm dealing with pro-human gangs, fake names for seemingly benign individuals, Alliance commanders who want to meet me (but will get the cold shoulder [that scares me the most]). And then I still have to pull together a plan to isolate Ian Shaw. Without being caught. Speaking of which, I still don't know whether I should do that last one. Is it so bad that he wants to join? Is one more gun for Shep better? I have no idea! What he is doing is complicating things!

But seriously? I bump into Marya AND Tali, in the same escape sequence? Fucking hilarious. I walk in to my apartment, Serena locks down security (good girl) and we have a talk about how to shut Ian Shaw out of the Normandy. She says she can sabotage a taxi to take him anywhere but the docking bay where Shep's ship is. Brilliant, but is it right? Also, there will be the risk of Serena being revealed while hacking the Fast Travel system. I say I'm going to sleep on it. She says exactly this: "I agree, except without the sleeping."

Developing a sense of humour are we?

* * *

**Each entry will be larger and larger as things pick up. The updates will be slower and slower as a result.**

**Also, I have a few ideas on what to do with it, but there is a poll on my profile page about romances. Things will move slow, and the poll will be up a while yet, so make your 2 choices count.**

**I hope things are living up to your expectations, or exceeding them for that matter. As always, please feel free to review and let me know what I am doing wrong or right; each and every comment, review, or piece of advice WILL BE CONSIDERED for the future of this fic.**


	12. What a Day

**Day 21; January 21st, 2183**

This is so fucked up. Day started well, ended not so well. I... Don't like this anymore. It's not fun (like it ever was, fuck). Things just were made a whole lot more complicated and difficult. My arm feels like a limp noodle, spiced up with some dull pain. My head is spinning with a nasty fever due to infection, and is quite sore due to a massive headache. My ego took a massive beating as well. I don't want to... I'm tired. I'll explain exactly what happened tomorrow.

**Day 22; January 22nd, 2183**

It began simple enough. I was sleeping in, Serena woke me up. Of course I almost missed BOTH my meetings. I rushed down to Buster's Bullshit BBQ (terrible food, my god). Nice enough looking place, I find the reservation for "T'Yura" and then send my OSD that contains a message to Shep to her reservation. Marya was already there with her friend, a Salarian. I stumble a second. There's Shepard, looking rather impatient, right beside Marya's table. I sit down. The salarian turns to me and starts talking. Quickly. We're talking Mordin fast. This guy's much younger though. He did have a cool blue suit on, nice sense of style. I respect that in a man.

"Ah! Finally. You must be Marya's friend, the victim. Was looking forward to this meeting. Have been studying Purist base for a week or so. Looking forward to shutting them down for good. You'll be assisting us, yes?"

"Umm... Mayb-" I mumble. I don't... Wait. I'm not going to get involved in thi-

"Great! Sending coordinates to base to your tool." He does just that, then offers his hand. We shake. "Triali Arthol, STG dropout. Don't ask, can't say. Important thing: infiltration specialist. Long range. Sniper rifles. Limited tech. That's why you're here. Intel and tech specialist, if Marya hasn't lied to me."

I peer over his shoulder at Shep. She's pissed. Getting up. Leaving. Was a close one. I turn my attention back to Arthol. "Raz'Tallen. I'm ok with tech. Intelligence, maybe not so much. I can-"

"Shut up Raz. I've been watching you." Oh shit. That was Marya. She finally turns to the table. If she's been watching me, does that mean she knows of Serena? "Ever since Gravol got me to watch over you, you've done nothing but tinker in your apartment and scan people with your tool. Nobody has noticed but me, it seems." Well shit. "I don't know what you are doing with those scans, but you've caught my interest. And whatever it is you're tinkering with in your apartment is no small deal either. You were in there for two days, without leaving."

"Indeed. Marya called me. Mentions possible member for team. I looked in to it. Excellent running form, exceptionally quick for quarian. Not standard technique for Fleet Marine. Independent. Looking for employment?" I'm sure you can guess who that was. The spindly bastard was watching me too! And... On the topic of 'watching me', I thought I was doing pretty well for myself! And team?

"Team?"

"Indeed. Independant group, we do many things. Many many things. More information given for mission, at mission." Jesus Arthol, you're dragging me deeper into this shit and I didn't even notice at first.

"There's a small group of people, we do work here and there, as Triali mentioned." Marya clarifies. "I'm the medical 'expert', so I don't often do field work, but the others do."

"Well then... So you'd be properly equipped to deal with the type of problem I have."

"_We_ have. The Purists a problem for all non-humans." Touche, Marya.

Anyway, turns out that Marya and this Triali guy are part of a team of independent 'mercs'. They do whatever job they feel they want to do for other people for pay, or just do things themselves for the plunder/bragging rights. Some dangerous, some not so dangerous. _They_ feel that _I_ am worth picking up, like I'm some kinda free agent. But they won't officially have me until I've proven myself.

That means they're taking me on a trial run. Today (well yesterday, since I'm writing this one day off). I had to deal with that gang, but I did not want to be caught up in some bullshit merc problems. Whatever.

The plan was to, quite simply, barge in the front door and start shooting. Apparently having me in the job brought a bit of flexibility to this: having me inside frees up Triali to post up outside the base to pick off anything that tries to leave. I'll be joined by a turian point man, and a human explosives expert. They tell me to get there right now. I leave the restaurant. My paste tasted like shit. Remind me never to eat there again, please and thank you.

* * *

I arrived at the meeting place. It's this run down piece of shit office building in the 'bad' areas of Tayseri Ward, near the industrial zone. Across the 'street' thing is the Purist base. I'm the first one to arrive in the specified office. Next in is Triali Arthol, the salarian sniper, wearing some light, plain black armour and his rifle (I don't know weapons well enough to say which it is). He greets me, then sends me a file on my omni-tool. I open it, it's Active Camouflage (a very simple version, fresh off the tests). I stammer out a "How?"

An obviously modified, but just as obviously flanged voice answers with a simple explanation, "STG. You'll want to use that, you'll tend to stand out without it."

I turn around and see one of the most imposing (he's like a full foot taller than me!) turians I've ever seen. He's wearing some of the coolest armour (black with gold highlights, gold paint adorning the helmet in what I'll guess to be a turian skull) I've ever seen. All in all, one badass looking (and sounding, I might add) people I've met. He pulls out what almost looks like a Mattock (not quite, not sure if they're even out yet) and starts fiddling with it. He looks up at me, "And you must be the new techie. Can't say I expected a quarian, though your species is supposed to be the best so I won't argue. Gelkan Marius; former Armiger Legion, Ghost Division, at your service." He nods at me in greeting

"Raz'Tallen nar Tasi vas Nedas, at yours." I reciprocate his gesture. There's a laugh from the hallway out the door of the office we're setting up in. A caucasian, brown-haired human wearing a black (seeing a pattern here?) medium hardsuit walks in to the room and stands behind Marius. He speaks with a weird british style accent (I don't know where exactly, almost Irish if I had to guess) and a grin on his face.

"An exile, eh? Aren't we the most loyal bunch out there? Former STG, former Fleet, former Armiger, former Alliance N6... that would be me... and forme- oh wait, Marya hasn't even joined anybody yet! So what'd you do to get exiled anyway?"

That question I don't mind asked, because I have a simple answer: "I don't know. I have a touch of amnesia."

"Ah? Well, even if that is the case: we all have our secrets, mate, just be ready for the consequences of holding them. MY reason for leavin' is simple: they wouldn't let me blow things up enough for my liking!" He's a real laugh, that human. "Name's Alex. Alex Miller. Was N6, ready to go for N7. Shit hit the fan and I got out ASAP. Haven't looked back since."

Triali clears his throat to catch our attention, "Getting to work, gentlemen?"

Basically this was the plan as presented by Triali: I hack building security and power, cut the power, we (Gelkan, Alex and I) go front door, apply liberal use of cloak, blitz, clear, plant explosives ("Just a _pinch_ of kaboom, you can't go wrong!" - Alex) and get out. Triali gives intel from a safe distance, according to him we should be in and out within ten minutes. _Ten minutes!_

"That would be preferred. Not equipped for extended fights. Must be in and out." Triali turns to me before continuing, "Must have lights out and security off for entire mission. Detection is not preferred. Once down, stay at back and provide tech support; Gelkan can flank and Miller provides suppression."

"Tri, we've gotta get the kid a better gun. That pea shooter isn't worth blinking at." Gelkan, you bastard. I have _never_ fired a gun before, so I've never needed one! Not that it wasn't the truth, about the pea shooter, but still!

"I have never fired a gun before." I announce, no need to dance around the issue.

"Soon you will. Now, get ready. Leave in five minutes. Stick to Gelkan and Miller. Good luck." Thanks for the vote of confidence, Triali. I mean, he's basically telling me that I'm going to face a firefight in five minutes, and learn from experience.

"RAZ!"

"Coming!"

...

We get down to ground level, cross the street. I scan the building, power box over there. I shut this down, we have a few moments when the security is also down before it starts up again on emergency power. I walk over, open it up, scan it; this should do the trick. I look back at Gelkan. He nods. I activate my tool, hack the box. The show has started.

I ran back to the two gunners, we had only a few moments to get inside. I scan the building again, marking cameras and various detectors I found. Not many, but enough to screw us over if we were careless. The two fighters nod, turn to the door, I hack it open. Smoke grenade in (courtesy of Alex), each of us cloak (I can't even explain the feeling of that) and enter. I do a quick infrared scan: looks like the room up ahead is an open lobby of sorts, only one level, only two tangos in the general area. My so-called Peashooter is shaking in my hands. The two veteran soldiers ahead of me glance at the scan results and push forward. I hear a soft sound, almost like an aerosol can, then watch one of the two baddies' neck snap, followed quickly by the next. There's no way Gelkan could have gotten to them that quickly! He covered a solid ten metres with that... Whatever the hell that was. I _will_ be asking about it, cause that sounded al lot like some kind of propulsion dealio.

No security here, we push forward. Scan of building shows a few paths in the next room. I call up Serena to see if she can assist.

"Serena, I'm part of a raid of a building. I have scans, basic blueprints. Think you could point me in the direction of a security booth or something?"

"I can do that. One moment." A moment passes. "There you are." A path appears on my HUD, similar to the one that appeared on my run from McShove-It and the Company (Purists? I don't know.)

It's awfully quiet in this so-called base. I bring up my concerns with Gelkan. He agrees.

"Keep our eyes sharp. Raz, you got a possible lead on security yet?"

"Nope. Gotta get to main security booth, office, thing. I think I know where that is though."

"Excellent. Raz take point, keep scanning. Stay cloaked, out of sight of cameras at all times." All business, this turian.

We make it to the last door with no more than five guards along the way. Something seems suspicious. I believe the immortal Admiral Akbar may have had something to say about this. We storm the security office thing. One guy. He gets a knife in the throat courtesy of Gelkan. That guy is a machine. I move the body, sit down in the chair, see what I can do about security.

After a minute or so of searching, I find the shutdown command. I also come across a message: apparently most of the Purists were out doing work tonight. Just our luck.

"Triali here. You have incoming. Multiple hover cars incoming. I'll slow them down as much as possible. If we are to complete mission, get defenses ready."

And so we did. We had superior position; it should be easy, right?

Perhaps if Alex hadn't been a dumbass and rigged the entire place with explosives. The WHOLE GODDAMN PLACE! One stray bullet, and kaboom. And kaboom was NOT OK in this regard.

I was chilling in the back, near the security booth, while Gelkan and Miller got ready. Why couldn't we just sneak out, then blow the building? Too late, gunfire.

"Raz! Get your ass out here, we need help!" Miller sounds anxious. Must be a lot of th- HOLY SHIT. There's about twenty Purists in their hodge-podge of armour and weapons, all behind cover.

I froze. Gelkan and Miller yelling at me to get to cover. I remained frozen. Until I got hit, in my left arm. My arm dropped. Then I dropped. I fumbled for my Razer pistol, held it in my shaking right hand. Slid towards the waist height wall where the explosives expert was set up. Miller was going to work with his huge-ass machine gun thing. Gelkan was- flying? What the fuck? He had these little rocket things on his suit, he was flying around the room doing... stuff. Snapping necks, jabbing knives in people, all the while cloaking and 'jumping' gaps between people. It was going quite well. Until I got shot, of course.

***Let it be known that I actually did see this all happen***

At this point, I swore, both the guys looked at me. _Miller_, the idiot, still had his finger on the trigger. When he jerked his head over to me, he jerked his gun with him. Sprayed bullets all over the goddamn place. Sure as hell, he pinged one off a piece of metal straight into one of the explosives. Didn't blow though. Or at least not yet.

That piece of explosive came loose off the wall and landed on top of a Purist. Who _just so happened_ to be priming a grenade. He fumbled it. Ooops... that means kaboom in a few seconds. The Purist panics, starts running away from the primed grenade and explosive.

Miller says "Get the fuck outta here!"

Gelkan says "I agree! Get behind me kid!"

I say "..." followed by a high-pitched yell, or scream, or something. Straight up, I'm not a brave man. Soon afterwards, I ran. Miller picked up his gun and ran. Gelkan ran... flew. Triali gives us updates from outside, I don't listen. My arm feels like someone took a gun and... Oh yeah! That's exactly what it felt like! The two gunners, well, gunned their way forward with liberal use of smoke and flash grenades. The stunned gang members never stood a chance. Behind us there is a large explosion. Followed by another, bigger one.

I scan ahead on the fly; I call up to Gelkan and Miller "Hold up! There's a large number of tangos up ahead in the main lobby!"

Miller cries out, "Fuck that! Activate cloak and keep running!" The explosions behind us keep growing in number, so I curse again before pushing forward. Shockwaves nearly knock us off our feet, the building behind us starts to collapse, but we manage to keep our momentum forward. Sure enough, in the next room there was a mass of gang members either trying to set up a defense or trying to get out the front door, having seen the impending wall of boom and doom.

We break through the ranks without many of the Purists noticing, thank god for cloak. The front door is wide open, but the bodies of Purists lay all around the entrance; most of said bodies have single holes in their heads. Triali had been doing work. We keep running until we are a safe distance away, before turning to the former home-base of the Purists. It was, for lack of a better word, just a pile of rubble now.

Not long later we make it up to the office we used to prepare. Marya is there now, with a few medical supplies. I deal with the elephant in the room, after a few moments of silence.

"Jesus Fuck, Miller! Did you really have to use _so much goddamn explosives?!_"

"I agree with Raz: overkill on explosives. Nearly cost us mission, and personnel. Recommend holding back next time." Oh good, Triali's got my back in this.

"Aww, come on guys! You _know_ in your hearts, you really loved it!"

"You sure it wasn't a bad thing the Alliance limited your explosives? 'Cause to me, it sure looks like it may have been a good choice!" Seriously, this guy has a bomb fetish or something!

"Nah. Besides, we all got out, completed mission. Those Purists are done for."

"Indeed." That was the modified voice of Gelkan that time, "The kid did well, for his first mission. He kept up, did his job exceptionally. I'd look forward to working with him again."

"Aye, that he did. And I agree, though he's gotta loosen up a bit." Says the guy that almost blew us to shit, "He's a bit jumpy, not to mention that screech he let out. That sound will haunt my dreams forever."

"This 'kid' is standing right here, jackass." And he also didn't even fire a weapon. Just fiddled with some tech and got shot. What good did I do?

The salarian comes to my aid.

"Excellent work. That's all we need. Everyone go home. Will contact you later once we come to official decision, Raz. Recommend seeing Marya before you leave. She'll fix you up, then you can go. Don't go to hospital, will draw attention. Good luck, good-bye." Triali seems to be the one with the plans, and the reins to this little team.

Marya actually did a good job patching me up, though the cold silence between the two of us might as well have been a fire alarm. She obviously did not like me being a part of this, and liked fixing me even less. Couldn't blame her, just the fact that I'm a quarian tacks on a huge concern about my immune system. Speaking of which, the fever I've got right now really sucks. It should blow over in a few days. I hope. I go home, sore in just about every part of my body. But my day's not done yet.

* * *

I forced myself to get up, get as close to the docking bay as possible. The mission in the afternoon lasted much longer, and was much more costly on my health than I'd anticipated, so I ended up missing my chance to hack his car or whatever. The next best chance was now; I wanted to intercept Shaw before he got past the C-Sec Academy. I get turned around by an officer and led out of C-Sec. Nevermind. I wander out in the general area for a bit, and bump into... Guess who? Yeah, Little Miss Purple, the Admiral's Daughter, Sparks.

...

Tali, that's who! She glares at me. Oooh, I'm so scared. She obviously just wants me to get out of her way. I just calmly mock salute her. "Miss 'Zorah, how may I serve you? Want me to, I don't know, move? Well too bad. Ever since I ran into you at the restaurant all those many days ago, I've wanted an answer. One that you quite obviously know. What did I do to get exiled?"

Her glare turns to something more like shock, "You... you honestly don't know?"

"NO!" Ooops, kinda yelled that, "No, I don't. Like I was going to say, before you ran off, was that I have suffered some sort of memory loss. I don't remember anything from the Fleet. I have found no other quarian to speak about it. I have found no news, or data anywhere to tell me! _What did I do?_"

"You stole Admiral Xen's research. You created an AI! And you let it loose on the _Grange_! The whole crew was killed!"

"... Well, shit." There it is. Mystery solved. Guess it really makes sense though. No wonder Serena seemed easy to create, I'd already had practice! I was shocked, yet not so at the same time. What I really felt was immense guilt, shame. Did I do that? Or did Raz? What is the difference anymore? "I... Thank you, Tali. I wish I could say that it was a weight off my shoulders, but truly? I only feel more."

She was looking at me, studying me. I only assume this, but it seemed rather obvious that she was... evaluating my response. When she speaks again, she averts her eyes, "I am sorry for running from you. I do not trust you, but you seem sincere enough for that much." She looks past me, then at me again, "I must go."

I let her pass, "Good luck." Eh, why not? "Keelah se'lai."

She nods as she passes, "Keelah se'lai."

I stand there, motionless, for a few moments, then remember what I came here for originally. I try to get to C-Sec again, within eyesight of the elevator. I was too late. Caught up in my own feelings. Shaw is visible next to Tali, Wrex and Garrus on the ascending elevator. Fuck. I missed him. I guess I could always just message him. But I have no blackmail for him. What to do? He... Aargh! I go home.

* * *

Which is where I am now. I've had meds keep my fever at bay for most of the day, but it is returning with a vengeance. Also, my arm still hurts like a bitch and has limited movement even after a succesful procedure with Marya. I'm going to be out of commission for a while. Shep will have to deal with Shaw herself.

Speaking of which, she sent me a message yesterday:

* * *

_Stakeholder,_

_I am disappointed. I feel I cannot trust you. I hope you find something useful for the knowledge you seem to possess that is for the betterment of the galaxy._

_Commander Shepard_

_Alliance Navy_

* * *

Serena has noticed my attitude. I assure her that it will only be temporary, and that I will eventually be back to normal. After all, it's not every day you raid a gang base with an independent merc group, get shot, almost get blow up, crushed by falling debris, told you are untrustworthy by possibly the most important person in the galaxy, mess up your plan to avoid canon displacement AND told you are a mass murderer. Then to top it all off, get the worst fever you've had in years.

Contrary to what I had believed before: I had nothing under control.

I needed friends I can trust. Said friends just may belong to a merc group I encountered recently. I might just join them out of a need for a better purpose.


	13. Sickness

**Day 23; January 23rd, 2183**

I thought that my fever would get better. I was wrong. I'm out for the day, Serena says she can take care of security and lessons. She's been doing well by herself the last few days, I am happy for her. Arm is doing well, I think. I make regular trips to the clean room to make sure it's healing fine. I'm no medical expert, but it seems to be doing alright. But this fever is seriously making me consider dropping everything and giving myself up to C-Sec so I don't have to steal money for supporting myself.

...

Almost passed out. Dehydrated, and still sweating by the bucket load (pardon the pun). This is no good. Why did I even think it was a good idea to do that goddamn 'mission'. I've double, triple, quadruple checked my suit for ruptures, but it's clean! What the fuck is going on!?

**Day 24; January 24th, 2183**

Missed getting Shep a message on the way to Therum. Too bad, I have more important things on my mind. Went to clinic, Doc Michel says all I can do is rest. I concur; I try to do something more and I might just pass out. Drinking more, isn't helping. Vomiting... I never like vomiting. Who does? My thoughts on that topic from when I was human are only multiplied now that I have to wear a helmet. I think you get the picture.

I'm getting hot and cold flashes, but overall I'm just growing more and more tired every hour.

...

Think I'm gonna take a nap for a bit.

**Day 27; January 27th, 2183**

Fever is almost gone, but I'm scared. The most scared I've ever felt. My fever just kept getting worse and worse. According to Serena I've been out for two or three days straight. How is that even possible? Suit function says it's out of extra water, can't recycle it anymore. Hungry as shit, but I can't keep anything down, yet. But that wasn't what scared me. I had a dream... More like a nightmare.

* * *

Well, where should I start? I can't even remember half of it clearly, like I was delirious even in the dream world, but let's give it a try.

_Nothing but darkness. Not sound, not light, nothing. Slowly, I see a light off in the distance growing larger and brighter. Hurts my 'eyes'. Sounds, beeping noises, voices. Nothing coherent though, just murmurs and gibberish. Light consumes me, and then fades again. I open my eyes, everything is blurred (more so than usual). All I see is dark shapes in a bright foreground. They look like shadows, poring over my 'body'. I can't move. Can't open my mouth. But the scariest thing: I feel human again._

_Vision becomes clearer still. Gibberish starts to grow my agitated, like someone is giving orders. I feel... naked? It's a welcome, yet not so welcome feeling, at the same time. I'm not wearing a suit! There are pads stuck to me, I think I feel an IV or something stuck in my forearm. I always hated IVs, they're so restricting._

A little back story on that: Like I mentioned, I've always hated IVs, they're so restricting. But I've almost gotten used to them over the time of being in hospitals. I mentioned earlier about spending lots of time in hospitals right?

...

Yep, good. I did mention that part. Anyway, I've always preferred freedom. I don't always want to move, but I prefer to have the choice of moving. Back to the dream then?

_Vision is almost clear, noises are nearly clear. This is definitely a hospital. The constant beep of a heart rate monitor is a dead giveaway. I can turn my eyes and neck now. I see doctors/nurses all around me. All human. Wasn't on the citadel then. I keep looking around. The doctors watching me rush around, someone tries to keep me still. The gibberish is getting on my nerves. What the hell language are they speaking? It's not english, french, or spanish. Those I can recognise well enough by the accent or sound of the inflections. I am definitely human, a blurred reflection on a metal wall tells me that much. People are still talking. One leans over me. I... recognise him._

_Doctor Tim Surtz looks into my eyes with an... opthalamoscope-er dealio? I'm not even sure, all I know is that he's examining me. Probably to see if I'm truly awake. I don't know for sure myself. All I feel is pain. Throughout my body. Just a dull, constant throbbing. He looks over to my left, then nods. I peer over to see a doctor, nurse, or something leave the room. And what I see next cause me to take a sharp breath._

_My parents. My father, with his salt and pepper (don't tell him I said that, fuck) hair and trademark moustache. He looks worried. He never looks worried; usually just happy, or angry. And my mother, with her curly blonde dyed hair. Her blue eyes look like a mess, it's clear she's been crying. I ask, not for the first nor last time: what the fuck happened to me._

_They speak, but I cannot understand them. I can't register what they're saying! It's like my brain doesn't pick up the true meanings of the sounds entering it. And it pains me. I try to say "I can't understand you". Of course, my mouth is dry at first. My voice is scratchy, almost dead sounding. But I understand the words, and that is good enough for me. However they don't. Or at least I don't think they do. They frown, as if confused. My dad furrows his brow even more, something of a miracle that. They say something else, not directed at me. Doctor Surtz speaks, probably trying to offer an explanation to my 'condition'. By this time, I am much to lucid to think this is still a standard dream. This is something more._

_He motions to his head. I am getting a headache, which is quite an achievement considering the pain it already was in, from the gibberish. I have no doubts that they are in fact speaking english, perhaps it is me that is at fault. Something wrong with my brain? It would coincide with the motioning to the head by the Doctor. Stroke? I've heard of patients losing cognitive abilities, and lose the ability to speak or hear english. If so, I am genuinely worried. But that might also be an explanation for my dilemma as well? Might be, but that is also much to lucid to be nothing but an imagination... Is it?_

_I reach out to my parents, restricted by the IV. Mother grabs it, holds it, squeezes it. I feel tears coming to my eyes. I missed them so much, more than I'd ever expected to. Warm feeling throughout my body, feels good. Still can't decipher what they are saying, but I don't think they can understand me either. Still, I say "I miss you. I want to come back." Tears flood my mother's eyes again. They know I'm here._

* * *

But it was not meant to be. As quickly as I'd arrived, I was enveloped by darkness; once again left blind, deaf and numb to the world. Then I woke up, to the sound of Serena begging me to wake up and a fevered quarian body with very sore muscles and a badly bitten tongue. I'd been asleep for fifty-six hours, according to her. Says I was on the verge of, or very clearly seizing throughout. That always scares me; I had seizures as a human and they were never friendly in any way (I had always bitten my tongue, but with sharpened teeth now it makes it truly dangerous [much easier to shear clean off, not a pleasant image but worth considering nonetheless]).

But was I truly asleep? Or was I merely lost to this world, just as it seemed I was to my 'real' life. A pang of guilt filled me; I was leaving my family, friends, in the dark. I had accepted life 'here'. A new life.

Was I deserving of a new start? Or was I only going to be dragged back and forth between 'dimensions', played like a game of pong by the gods that seem to hate me at this point or the brain that almost seemed damaged beyond complete repair? I always hated pong.

**Day 28; January 28th, 2183**

Fever is nearly gone. Still shaken up by my 'dream'. I told Serena, she was concerned for my mental health. I agreed with her. Nobody can help me with it, that I know of anyway. I could always go see the famed Consort, but that would mean that she'd know who I was, shake loose some dormant memories, or even just plain screw up my mind even more. Even if this might not be 'real life', I still want to take care of whatever manifestation I have. She does have a confidentiality deal though, maybe that would be the best course of action. Even if I do get an appointment, chances are that it won't be for a while. Months even.

I'm lucky: February 21st is the next open slot. I take it. I have more than enough creds for it, thanks to my lack of eating and successful thievery of the week or so previous.

Multiple messages from Marya, Gelkan, Triali and one from Gravol. They convey the same message. They decided they want me on their squad, and that they'll give me however long I need to decide. According to my access to Shep's PM account the Therum mission was a success, and that they were heading to Feros now.

* * *

_Shepard,_

_I apologise for my missing your last mission. I trust it was a success? How is Dr T'Soni?_

_Nevermind, don't answer that. You have Feros next?_

_Geth. Colony. Attack. Death. Fai Dan. Water. Alpha Varren. Insanity? Spores. Exogeni. Scientists. Ethics. Jamming. Shear. Meat Plant. Control. Grenades. Shiala. Trust? Cipher._

_You don't trust me, I get it. But I trust you to get things done. And I thank you for everything you have done and everything you will do. I hope to meet you someday._

_A Stakeholder_

* * *

I do some reading, can actually eat for the first time in days. Got a backup done for Serena's core. If she shuts down here, she'll have a chance to restart on a different, hidden core.

...

Shit! Someone knocked on _my _door! MY DOOR! First visitor since Gravol ruined my couch, and believe it or not my apartment is actually in a worse mess than before due to some fever induced fumbling and just plain laziness after my stretch with Serena's programming. SHIT! Serena! What the fuck am I gonna do about her! Is it someone I can tru- It's Marya. She just yelled "Get your ass off your bed and open the goddamn door."

At least I think I can trust her. I hope. Still, I tell Serena to stay hidden for now. Answering the door.

...

She knows...

* * *

"Get your ass off your bed and open the goddamn door!" came the yell from the hallway.

I whisper to Serena, "Just lay low for a bit," before shouting back to the door, "Just give me a second!"

I finish up writing the section of my journal before getting up and strolling toward the door. I open it, and get a faceplate full of a certain angry asari open-hand-slap style. I actually think she put some biotics behind that. I fell back into my 'living room', now literally my tech lab. She storms the room, then points a very angry looking finger right in my face.

"And just what have you been doing for the last week? Not bothering to answer my messages... Our messages? Just 'tinkering' again? Hmmm?!"

"Whoawhoa whoa! Just hang on a second here!"

"'Just hang on a second here'? I've been hanging on for a week, Raz!" Why yes, it was nice to see you too. Though she does seem genuinely concerned...

"I've been sick, Marya! You remember that gunshot wound? Yeah, I got badly infected by something."

"You seem awfully alright at the moment! And what is all this shit? Electronics?"

"I... I can't really prove to you that I've been sick, can I?"

"I can." Shit Serena! I thought you were gonna lie low! "Sorry Raz, but you need help explaining." Well yeah! But not from an illegal AI!

"And who is that? Is that... No. You wouldn't... You're not... Raz!? Is that an AI?" Marya is acting quite panicked at this point. Heavy breathing, the works. Reminds me of when I first arrived at the citadel. Still, I prefer that to the angry asari that is threatening to pulp me with her force powers.

"...Yes..." I admit, quite sheepishly. I do the old wringing hands dealio that Tali is so well-known for.

"My name is Serena. I am here to look after, provide assistance to and company for Raz. He has taken the time to properly educate me about ethics, right and wrong, history and the general stigma towards synthetics such as myself. I mean you no harm, Miss Marya."

"How...?"

"Raz has been restricted to this apartment for the last week due to a heavy fever, including a stretch of three days unresponsive. During that period, he experienced multiple seizures."

"Goddess... Is this true?" Huh. I guess she's too worried about my health to worry about the possibly homicidal AI in my apartment. Interesting, I guess I might be able to play this.

"I think. I felt like shit when I woke up. Nasty dream too."

"But what about the AI-" "Her name is Serena." "- Yes. But is she safe?" "You don't know?" "It's all her choice." "_Her choice!?_" "Yes. What do you choose to do, Serena?"

"I choose to chance friendship over potential violence. Raz has taught me the meaning of tolerance." Serena answers, showing herself for the first time on a console near our position.

"You learned that yourself, I merely provided the framework for you to base your learning from."

Marya apparently wanted to get back to her issue, "So you created an AI? Why?"

"I was lonely. I had one friend, a possible second. Plus she'd be, and has been, invaluable to me during several run-ins involving possible bodily harm. And I aim to avoid bodily harm, especially since my first gunfight ended in a week-long fever."

Marya looks moves towards the console and examines Serena's avatar. "This is fascinating! Her avatar could be mistaken for a true human! How did you come up with this form?" She looks to me expectantly. She's more open-minded than I expected; THIS IS GREAT!

"She made it herself, during the first day she was 'alive'."

"You made this?" "Yes." "And you'd been awake for only a few hours?" "Yes." "How?" "Raz persuaded me that I could do anything, if only I believed in myself."

"Serena was, and still is, usually quite reserved. I pushed her to push herself." All I got in return was a gaping mouth and wide eyes.

"... Belief?"

"Powerful, isn't it? I picked up on that in my life, I'm surprised more people don't... beyond extremists it's actually quite hard to find such a strong belief in one's self. But even they are believing more in their _ideals_ than themselves; belief in themselves would more easily define the _difference_ between the ideals and the person itself... Or some bullshit philosophical quote like that." She continues to stare at me, though this time in a less recognizable expression than disbelief.

"Really Raz? That was almost perfect. Where'd you get it anyway?" "Made it up on the spot, actually. Did you like it?" "Yeah." "Well... If I hadn't just given a bullshit philosophical speech about belief in one's self, I'd say it was terrible and that I should probably never attempt something like that again."

That got a smile, "Well, it's good seeing you alive." Then a glare, "Stay that way. See you around, and it was... interesting... to meet you Serena."

"It was a pleasure, Miss Marya." "Please, just Marya." "If you insist, Marya."

"I'm sorry, Marya, but I need to know that _this_-" I gesture wildly around the room, but mostly at Serena's avatar, "-won't leave this apartment..."

"Umm... Sure. But if something happens, I don't want to be involved and will admit straight away. Just giving fair warning. This is a serious offense, Raz, whether Serena is a problem or not."

"Understandable. Oh, and I haven't decided about your 'offer' yet. I'll be sure to get back to you on that."

"Oh... I don't want you to be with us." "Oh, well, good to know I'll be loved by all, especially the one who would no doubt be treating me after every job."

"You... I just don't want you to get hurt, that's all." She says. It's clear she absolutely does not want me to be with them, not cause I'm not good enough, just that I might die. Well, I 'm going to die anyway. But you get the point.

"Yeah, I know."

"Bye."

* * *

Door shuts, leaving Serena and I alone again. I turn to 'her'.

"Well, that could have gone worse. Much, much worse. You done good today. And I'm out of energy. Good night."

"Good night, Raz." There's a short silence between the two of us as I get ready to sleep. Then she adds, "I trust her. Don't worry about me."

I trust Marya too, I think. I just hope that trust isn't misplaced. I got a message back from Shep. I don't care, I'll check it tomorrow.


	14. Advice from Uncle Fatass

**Day 29; January 29, 2183**

Huzzah! No more sickness! Though my arm is still quite stiff, I am actually healthy... I think. I will say this: IT FEELS FUCKING AMAZING! But I have a decision to make - whether or not to join Triali and company. I think yes, though I will need some real training before I can actually be useful to them. Considering I've already been on one mission and am 0/1 in the 'shoot:been shot' ratio. Not very good... Actually that's the worst it could be, percentage wise. I just don't know if I really want to... shoot people... for a living.

I mean, don't get me wrong. I have no problems with the illegal... if Serena and my less than struggling bank account have anything to say about it... But murder, on the other hand, is taboo. I just don't do that shit, especially after I learned that is the reason for 'my' exile. Assassination, murder, that doesn't work. I will have to work on self-defence.

And to do that, I will need some help. Help that can no doubt be given by Triali and Company.

Ooops, almost forgot about Shep's message back.

* * *

_Stakeholder,_

_I don't understand your motives. Why do you insist on sending me this... 'help'... when you won't even tell me face-to-face. Tell me, 'Stakeholder', why you would do something like this._

_Commander Shepard_

_Alliance Navy_

* * *

Good, seems like we are past the 'pissed off' stage. And I have a legitimate answer for her.

* * *

_Shepard,_

_Does the Shadow Broker ever give his identity away? Does the Illusive Man? You and I both know the pros of anonymity, as well as the cons. Your distrust is a Con, my ability to continue to help you is a Pro._

_I am by no means a 'new Shadow Broker', I have no information beyond that which is useful to you. I just like to be alive, and would like to stay that way. I have no combat training, few friends and, if people found out what I knew, many enemies that I am no match for._

_All I can do is hope that I can assist you as much as I can before I depart. We all have a stake in this galaxy worth fighting for, even if not all of us can fight it directly. I know the roles that most of your team will have in the near future, with the exception of one. He is a mystery to me._

_That is not to say he is a spy, merely that I am not aware of his purpose. I plan on changing that. I can give his name if you so choose, but I am sure he means no harm to you or your mission._

_A Stakeholder_

* * *

OK OK! Just a touch on the dramatic side, but she needs to know that I'm doing what I think is right. That much she deserves to know, for now.

...

Uncle Fatass is coming to town! I also sent a message saying I'd accept the offer given to me. Apparently I'll need some good armour, a better shield, and a better omni-tool. According to them... HA! A 'better omni-tool'? I have the best there is for my purposes right here in my hand (On my hand? Around it?)! And that's not hubris speaking. It's just... The best! With Serena, this omni-tool and the cloaking program Triali gave me, I'm best equipped for exactly what I was planning to do! So... Armour and shields. I know fuck all about them. Time to make a few meetings with the guys, they'll know.

...

Shopping with the guys. Gelkan is one ugly motherfucker without his helmet, but also a scary one. Tallest turian I've ever seen. Sneaky too, scared the shit out of me when he turned up. Miller met us at the store they chose, I forget the name. Not much for quarians in terms of armour out there, but shields were pretty common. With my funding, I got one of the best there is... I'll need it. Funny thing, my suit fits right in with theirs already.

A little grocery shopping, refilling my suit stuffs, stealing more credits. Just a normal day. I'm rich now, but I don't let anyone know. Attracts attention.

Speaking of attention, there's Gravol being pestered by some C-Sec dudes.

...

I walk up to them, "Gravol! How's it going man?"

"Oh not bad. There are these flies around me, causing me some discomfort. You got a swatter I could use? Or a gun?"

"Nah. These flies are much too big for a swatter, and I'm not sure if the head flies will like you removing them."

"Ah, that's too bad." He says, "How've you been?"

The cops, by this point, were being completely ignored while Gravol talked over their heads, "Ex- Excuse me, sir? Could I ask you to- Could I ask yo- Sir!"

"To be quite honest? My life has been both sides of the scale... Living the life one day, seizing from fever in my apartment the next. I heard you were doing well for yourself on Omega. Or, at least as well as one would expect from a shithole like that."

"Indeed. I hear you've found a job?"

"That I have. Once you've lost the attention of those flies, head to my apartment and I'll fill you in."

"Will do, Raz."

And then I walked away, the C-Sec boys getting quite upset by that point. Ha! Like they could do anything against a monster like Fatass.

...

A few hours later, I'd finished sorting out my new equipment: shield generator, a new omni-tool (ha! I told them I wouldn't need one, but they bought me one anyway. So I just transferred the useful programs to mine), a new pistol (NOT AKIMBO! I should think learning how to shoot one would be enough) and a shitload of suit repair and medigel packs. Those last two are huge. I put my first pistol in a hiding spot near my bed, just in case. Gravol shows up. We're gonna be talking a long time, so I'll fill you in on the specifics tomorrow morning.

**Day 30; January 30th, 2183**

Another messed up dream, this time I was alone in a hospital room. Shit was hooked up to me. Quite obviously I was in some sort of... vegetative state, coma, whatever... And I was not happy. Couldn't move at all that time, couldn't open my eyes, couldn't speak. Woke up quicker though. Painful reminder of just what I was missing: FUCK ALL. I don't want to be stuck in a coma for my entire life, but I'm glad I'm not there to 'experience' it in the first person cause those dreams are scary enough.

...

"Well soorrrrryyyy if I'm not the font of knowledge in all things violent! I prefer running and saving my ass, over getting shot in said ass!"

"Well maybe if you weren't such a terrible shot you wouldn't need to worry about 'said ass', and get on with killing people."

"Keelah, Gravol! I'm not a walking, talking tank like you are; I can't just regenerate 'said ass' after it's blown off by a shotgun!"

"You're making yourself sound like a worthless pyjak, you know that right?"

"Pyjaks can't hack into a security network. Pyjaks can't turn off the power to an entire fucking block of buildings which was hilarious, by the way. Pyjaks can't... Aw shit, I've run out of things I can say... OH! Pyjaks can't get an entire pro-human gang angry at them because I taunted one of their lieutenants while in jail- with the assistance of a krogan... but still- then stole his credit chit."

"Weak. Just weak. If you'd said something including the words: gun, violence, blood, gore, brains, murder, knife or anything similar... Then I may have been impressed. All I heard was 'blah blah blah, I can't fight my own battles so I run away from them before trying to justify my actions with words making myself sound much bigger a man than I actually am'."

"For your information, SIR, that is exactly what I do... And will continue to do! It's kept me alive, hasn't it? And I CAN say something involving brains; none of the stuff I said I'd done would've have been possible without them! So HA!"

"Bah. You quarians are all the same. Always hiding behind your tech and your intellligence."

"I beg to differ, Mister Gravol." Jesus fuck. Not you. Gahh!

"What was that? I thought I heard a female voice in the back... Raz... You dog! Been sneaking girls into your apartment under MY nose? I hadn't even smelled her till she said something. I still can't!"

"Oh fuck you Gravol. And fuck you too, Serena!" Tinkling laughter from my bedroom.

"Oh so THAT'S her name! Serena... That a human, or asari? It's not quarian, and I never pegged you for a krogan, salarian or turian kinda guy."

"No. It's a yahg."

"A what."

"Nevermind."

"So where'd you meet her? Bar? Library? Porn shop?" That scary chuckle. I hate you Fatass.

"Here, actually."

"Oh really? Delivery girl?"

"..."

"But really, I must know about the love life of my friends... And what's with all this tech just lying around? You been fooling around with stuff you shouldn't? Illegal stuff?"

"Uh... It's funny how those kinda relate... Not love life, but the 'girl' in my bedroom, the illegal stuff, and the tech."

"Really? I don't see the connection... Unless of course you went against just about every law in Citadel Space and made yourself an AI. Which I doubt, because you wouldn't have the quad."

"..."

"... Would you?"

"Ummm..."

"No. You DID!?"

"Gravol do you trust me? And for that matter, can I trust you?"

"..."

"I'll take that as a no then."

"What? No, of course you can trust me, and I trust you... Did you make an AI?"

"... Yes..."

"You DO have the quad for that then! And how many people know about this then?"

"Just you, me, Serena and Marya."

"Humph. Keep that circle tight then."

"So... You're not gonna do anything about her?"

"Me?! You're asking me? The cannibalistic krogan that you met in jail and has spent most his life on Omega doing illegal jobs if he's going to betray one of his best friends and his girlfri- AI?"

"So you are a cannibal?"

"Don't change the subject. My point was that I've done more dangerous and less legal shit than you have."

"That is wonderful to hear Mister Gravol!" That it is, Serena, that it is.

And then the conversation changed from illegal AIs to my lack of a girlfriend in record time. If I'd thought that having Gravol interrogating me by himself was bad, now that Serena was 'joining in on the fun' it was borderline torture.

...

"So why don't you just take her to bed and get it over with?"

"Please, Gravol! Raz must be more subtle than that!"

"Ha! Subtle. There is nothing subtle about courting a female."

"But we are talking about a perfectly healthy male quarian, not a krogan. And she is a perfectly healthy asari. Make the wrong moves or move too fast and she will smear him across the walls." '_Thanks for the confidence booster, Serena'_ Wait-a-minute... Who even said anything about asari? And why is _my AI_ having an argument with _a krogan _about whether I should be dating my soon-to-be doctor?

"A krogan male should never fear the risks of courting, even if the female could 'smear him across the wall'. He would claim her as his own, take her to his room an-"

"WHOA! We don't need to go there, Gravol!"

"I agree. Such details should be worked out in private with the partner."

"Privacy. Pah!"

"Ahem. Perhaps we should move onto less awkward topics?"

"Indeed. Did you hear about the C-Sec detectives who are trying to link several major crimes together with a single group at it's center?" Thank you Serena!

...

"You know, Marya isn't the sweet little asari you must make her out to be. In fact, it's not to surprising she let you by for the whole AI deal."

"Hmmm?"

"Even though she's young, she's been through a lot. Seen a lot. When I found her and 'saved' her she was ready to cause a biotic... explosion. Or something. It would have seriously set her back, but she was pushed to the brink at which she was ready to do anything to get out. Luckily I found her, got her out. She knows what it's like to be alone, to have no-one to be there for you. She knows what is right and wrong. She must have seen what you did as right, laws be damned."

"Hmm."

"You can trust her with this, I know this much. Fully trusting the AI itself is a different story."

"She said so herself."

A deep chuckle, "She's not stupid, that one. Anyway, I should get out of here. It was good to see you again, Raz, and good to meet you Serena."

"Likewise, Gatatog Gravol."

"See you around, ya giant lizard."

And then he was gone again. He mentioned getting an offer from the guys (Triali and co), so I hope he accepts. We'd have a scary team, that's for sure. Except me, cause I'd be hiding behind Fatass doing my thing.

**Day 31; January 31st, 2183**

Training today. Not much happened. Gravol did accept, is now a part of the team.

Serena was right, there are rumours of a team of people robbing museums and blowing up gang bases on the Citadel. If C-Sec's best is thinking that they're the same group for both, then that means... Ha. So much for looking into that theft back a week or two. I just 'found' them.

**Day 32; February 1st, 2183**

More training. Luckily I'm in good enough shape that they can skip the athletics part of the regiment. The 'more experienced' members went on a job today. Got a few thousand creds and a gang base blow up. Eat your heart out, Alex Miller.

**Day 33; February 2nd, 2183**

_Stakeholder,_

_In that case your 'help' greatly appreciated, but I still don't trust you. And I understand your 'need' for anonymity._

_The unknown you speak of, you were not aware of his presence on my ship? To one who seems to know so much about the future, it is a worrying sign indeed. No names required, however, I don't want him to be damaged by any 'inquiries'. After all, you seem sure that he is no danger to my mission._

_Commander Shepard_

_Alliance Navy_

* * *

_Shepard,_

_I admire your trust in your crew._

_Noveria. Corruption. Anoleis. Qui'in. Smuggling. Peak 15. Big Bad Bugs. Tests. Benezia. Commandos. Little Wing. Songs. Live or Die? Truth._

_Good luck._

_A Stakeholder_

* * *

Hopefully that'll keep her set for Noveria. More training... Nevermind, just got a message. I'm going with them to intercept a shipment of weapons.

...

That went smoothly! Gravol stayed in front of me, I scanned for targets, they shot them. I didn't even get hurt!

* * *

[/: ERROR/ERROR/ERROR/ERROR/ERROR/ERROR/ERROR/ERROR/ERROR/ERROR:/]

[/: ANOMALY DETECTED/SECURITY SHUTDOWN INITIALIZED/ANOMALY DETECTED/]

[/:EMERGENCY SHUTDOWN DEACTIVATED/EMERGENCY SHUTDOWN DEACTIVATED:/]

[/:UNKNOWN FILE ACCESSED/SECURITY CLEARANCE FAILED/FAILSAFE ACTIVATED:/]

[/: VIEW ENTRY :/]

**Day [REDACTED]; [REDACTED], [REDACTED]**

I was just chilling by myself, like usual. Ever since the accident at **[REDACTED]** I hadn't made many friends. They tend to die on me. So I was chilling, talking to **[REDACTED]** on my omni-tool, when someone unexpected showed up.

The brown, almost black hair. The form-fitting clothing. Even the supermodel-esque face. They were all as I remembered. It was her. The Ice Queen, **[REDACTED]. **What the fuck did she want? I didn't want anything to do with them, not yet anyway.

"Mister **[REDACTED]**?" That was the australian accent I expected, though she was obviously trying to seduce me somehow with her tone. I knew better.

"Yeh. That's me. What did you want?"

"My name is **[REDACTED]** and I am here with a proposition... In fact, two propositions. You see, my employers are in need of specialists in many areas. You manage to fit two of them."

"Oh? And what would I want to do with your 'employers'?"

"We have heard of your beyond exceptional talents pertaining to coding, as well as your history with the **[REDACTED]**."

No. She is not expecting me to... No.

"Oh? And would you be willing to tell me some more details about said positions with your employer right here and now?"

"You must understand that these are delicate matters."

"Oh yes. But if your employers are willing to come to me- being that I am non-human- then that means that your employers are either desperate or branching out. And I'm pretty sure that it's the former. What is it you want?"

That threw her off. Implying that I knew who her 'employers' were gave me a bit of leverage, **[REDACTED] **or not.

"Meet me at this address, and we can discuss your contract options."

...

So I bit. And I was not disappointed. I'm actually quite interested in both, though for entirely different reasons.

* * *

I walked up to the address, was about to knock when the door opened to a faceplate full of pistol. I don't flinch. It lowers after a second.

"I apologise, Mister **[REDACTED], **but I must follow many security measures to maintain the confidentiality of this meeting."

"Of course." I reply smoothly, "I understand that working under **[REDACTED]** must be difficult at times like this." Hehe, I bet she didn't see that coming. But to her credit, she doesn't react. At all. We walk into the small apartment, and she motions to a seat at a table before sitting down across from me.

"You are quite knowledgeable after all... Still, I must present the contracts for your appraisal. This is the first," She slides a dossier across the table, "To simplify, it details plans for monitoring of the **[REDACTED]**. For this, we need the security codes. Your... history... suggests that you may be willing to help get us these codes."

"Hmm... I may be exiled, but that does not mean I am without a speck of honour."

"Disappointing. No matter, we have a backup for that. The second," She slides another over, "is something that you are, as we know it, uniquely suited to. We are in need of an experienced AI programmer. Our intel suggests that you have this experience."

Ah? Could she be talking about working on **[REDACTED]**? I would be very interested in that. I look through some of the files. Yes, yes... Interesting. It IS the one from Luna.

"Interesting. This I would consider. I must ask: how would _I_ be treated in the company of **[REDACTED] **personnel? Because if I am to be treated like trash, then I will not accept this contract no matter the pay. I am also reading here about some 'Extra Circumstances' involved."

"I understand. There would be... punishment, for hostility toward you. This project is too important to have petty conflicts in our way. The special circumstances mentioned within the contract include the continued repair and maintenance of your project."

That would mean a ticket onto the **[REDACTED]**! I am seriously considering this contract. The other, not so much. But... If I could make the outcome a bit more positive toward the **[REDACTED]**, would that make it worth it?

"Can I take a day or two to consider your offers?"

"No. If you are going to accept these contracts, you must do so now. I am on a tight enough budget and schedule as it is."

"No doubt. Give me a few moments to decide."

So... If I take both, then I could change many of the outcomes possible; with **[REDACTED] **I could modify her programming to be more sympathetic to humans, or even just to Shepard herself. I could... No. I _will_ be accepting that contract.

The other is just a mystery. I never read Ascension... It was Ascension right? Fuck, it's been so long since I got here. Can't just Wiki it up... Nah. I'm gonna leave that be.

"Miss **[REDACTED]**. I will accept the AI Programming contract. The other is not exactly in my bag of tricks."

"Excellent. I'll draw up the papers. We can get them signed and be off the station by noon tomorrow. Gather your belongings. Welcome to **[REDACTED].**"

...

And that was how I joined ******[REDACTED]**.

[/: ERROR/ERROR/ERROR/ERROR/ERROR/ERROR/ERROR/ERROR/ERROR/ERROR:/]

[/: CLOSE ENTRY :/]

[/: SECURITY OVERRIDE ACTIVATED/RETURNING TO ENTRY 34/]

* * *

**A/N: What's up guys? Just letting you know that I am still enjoying this project of mine, hope you are too. I have a poll on my profile about romances. I don't do romances well, but then again I have never tried! Let me know if you like these 'Entry Jumps', as I've come to calling them, and if I should do more like them when it feels like it's time.**

**As always, leave a review if you wish, let me know where you might be seeing this go. It always helps me out for future entries. **

**P.S.: THAT MEANS DO IT, OR ELSE! I always consider reviews, positive or negative.**


	15. Should be easy, right?

**Day 34; February 3rd, 2183**

Recovery from yesterdays mission, more training. These guys are really putting me through the ringer. Gelkan's taking me through stealth, Miller through basic weapons, Triali through tactics and shit, and Marya is trying to get me to understand how _not_ to get killed. All in all, a long day for me.

I'm spending more and more time out of my apartment, and Serena is getting lonely. She doesn't say it, but I can tell. I _made_ her for Christ's sake. That's it, I'm gonna look into getting her a physical body. I'll make it if I have to. It'd be cool if I could go via EDI's Mass Effect 3 body, with options for 'stealth' (meaning, sexy as fuck with the ability to fit in with humans), but it's actually up to Serena. I want to get her something as close to her avatar as possible so as to keep the transition as easy as possible. Gotta tally up the pieces I need. I have the money.

...

Serena says she doesn't need one. Fuck her, I'm making one anyway... I need a project anyway. All this training is hard on my brain... Funny how contradictory that really is.

**Day 35; February 4th, 2183**

Placed the order. Got some pieces from Synthetic Insights, the typical robot shit. But I put in an order to Dah'Tan (some random ass batarian computer corporation [known for going dirty as well, but then again what involving batarians isn't]) as well, for the missing bits I couldn't get from S.I. just in case it attracted attention. It'd look bad if I had ordered a whole goddamn robot in one go.

More training. Uh huh, this really sucks. But then again, I am getting the hang of it all more than I thought I would. _However_, it's a whole lot different in an actual firefight on an actual mission.

Speaking of actual missions, I'm going on another tomorrow. Something to do with raiding some corporate giant and scouting said target.

**Day 36; February 5th, 2183**

Time to scout. We're going to set up across the building and hack the security feeds. Then we're going to use these feeds to do a virtual stake out using the last week's worth of footage. Find the weak points in the details.

...

OK. Scouting done, easy. The plan: Wait until nightfall, there will be a certain point where all civilians will be off property and there will be a minimum of security guards. 'Clean slate' we call it. I hack the security, get us in the building. Big guys take out security, whatever way they want just as long as it's quiet. Once that's done, Miller sets Plan B (in the form of explosives that he's going to blow for an escape distraction). I set up a hacker on the main line, gather information, data, credits. Then GTFO. Easy. No killing, no casualties. Just plain theft, I can do that.

Oh yeah, the place we're attacking belongs to Delumcore Systems. Never heard of it before. But apparently they have some fingers stuck in some dirty shit; we're here to extract some intel on this 'dirty shit' and forward it to the Shadow Broker. No clue what we're supposed to find, but it'd be big if the Broker wants us to do it. We're still small time, but we've got experience, skill and subtlety where every other merc group, gang or security force does not.

**Day 37; February 6th, 2183**

God damn that was close. Those commando-dudes were on our tail the entire getaway. Good thing Triali decided to have us split up and have multiple possible escape routes. I don't know how they figured out we were in the system, but they did.

* * *

Just gotta prime it. Voila! Now just gotta get back to Triali for exfil.

"Alright, guys, we've got it all!"

"Excellent. We're just cleaning up the mess in the front lobby."

"Don't tell me Gravol went on another blood-rage. You know we get in deep shit when that happens. Every time!" Seriously though, Fatass, if you are reading this: GET CONTROL OF YOURSELF.

A deep chuckle fills the channel, "You're just jealous, turian."

"Dealing with blood and gore after each and every job is not a desired outcome. Remember that even though you're the muscle of the group, doesn't mean you don't use your brain."

Miller enters the conversation, "Mess cleaned, Plan B set up, let's roll out. Marya, get the shuttle ready for pickup."

Triali, Gelkan and Gravol begin to move back through the darkened hallways of the office portion of Delumcore while I finish up with the hacking device (think Brink style, just better).

"You got it sir. Raz, you get dow- What's this? Raz! Get down from there! They found us!" Whatever it is, Triali is scared and that doesn't happen easily. He's too experienced to get scared easily. He's fricken ex-STG, for Christ's sake! I gather the remains of my tools and throw them into my bag. Can't bother to keep them organized right now.

I call in, "I thought we were clean-slate?!" The device comes off the wall, I look left and right down the hall I'm in. Clear, for now. I hear footsteps and voices from not too far away.

"Doesn't matter Raz! Just get out, fastest way possible." That means the window drop, onto some residential buildings. I think I can handle the fall. Device is now in bag, bag is over my shoulder, people round corner. I get a quick look; black suits, expensive guns, insignia on shoulders (couldn't get a good look in the darkness though). About face and CHEESE IT! Gotta get our prize out. I throw a flash-grenade over my shoulder at the commando-baddies. Sounds like I got a few stunned, won't last for long. Take a left, right, vault a desk and turn left through office door and window. I pull out my Predator and take a few shots at the tough glassy substance. It weaken enough that I can break through. I lead with my omni-breach out just in case, and leave a gift for the pursuing commandos in the form of a stun-grenade.

_Smash!Thump! _Shouts and orders right behind me, I actually feel the bullets zip by my helmet.

I drop down to the roofs, roll and keep running. Baddies soon behind, these guys aren't normal mercs or guards if they can keep up with me. Bullets ring out behind and, somehow, from above. I'm bobbing and weaving like a slalom champ. I look up to the source of the rapid fire. One bullet hits my arm, then another ricochets of my helmet. Lucky me. I crouch behind some cover but try to keep moving forward.

As I make another break for an open doorway on the next roof, I'm momentarily blinded by a searchlight.

...

"Is that a- Is that a gunship! Serena, please tell me that's not a- THAT'S A GUNSHIP!" It opens fire, I turn into an open stairwell. No contacts whatsoever.

crackles in over comms in his pseudo-english accent, "Fire in the HOLE!" This is shortly followed by a muffled explosion throughout the apartment building I'm currently racing through. Another door up ahead, Miller is laughing like a madman. That will have been Plan B: bombs planted throughout the Delumcore Offices to stem the flow of reinforcements to the outside world should we need to; nothing structurally damaging, night patrols neutralized and there were no civilians inside the offices (a perfect clean-slate operation; rather it was until the unknowns appeared).

Door opens up to a narrow alley. MY ALLEY! I'm covered from the gunship above, and the commando-baddies haven't exited the building yet. In a split second I activate a decoy to run straight ahead into the crowd of people milling about in the markets up ahead and dive headfirst into my hidden shelter on the citadel.

I hear the commandos run by, luckily they fell for my decoy. A searchlight from the gunship passes over my protective cover and follows the ground troops. I remain concealed. I check comms. All but myself are blinking, meaning they are safe. Radio silence is good. I lean back in the trash that once served as my bed, see to my suit rupture and bullet wounds, then relax a bit. _If_ I don't die of infection before morning I should be safe here.

* * *

And I was. I stumbled back towards Home Base**, **already feeling the effects of the infection. I'm the last to check in. The others are arguing over just what exactly caused such a force to appear so suddenly.

"Look. It doesn't matter who they are-" Gelkan begins, but is cut off by Miller

"Yes it does! These guys almost busted us! And not in the friendly 'just don't do it again' C-Sec way. These guys broke in, and started shooting."

I shuffle around in my pack, everything is still intact. I sneeze; goddamn suit ruptures. Sleeping in a trash bin didn't help either. I pull out the device, which contains the data we lifted from Delumcore Systems. Upload it to everyone's tools. In a synchronized motion they each looked down at the files.

A confused look crosses each person's face. This wasn't what our target was. No credits, no weapon/vehicle schematics. Nothing useful to us. We couldn't even read all of it, but something was not quite right. One particular note stood out to me. And it scared me. I'll upload the file here:

* * *

_Mellark__, _

_Shepard and her team are close to their goal. The Geth aren't enough, we need to pull more resources from Delumcore Systems and complete the upgrades to their ships. You cannot fail me, especially after the Rachni incident on Noveria. The loss of the research has set back our forces considerably._

_S._

* * *

I looked up from my tool, "Not good guys, this is not good." For once in our time together, we all agreed.

Marya literally forces me into our makeshift operating room. She's such a B-I-T-aSFJkflds;

Our medical expert Marya is loved by all and we all greatly respect the effort she puts forth when us idiots come back from our jobs. We thank her for the time she devotes to mending the physical manifestations of our stupidity with the limited equipment and space we have provided. Thank you Marya for saving our lives time and time again.

* * *

**And there we have the first 'flash-forward' come to pass. Might have been a little rushed, but whatever. Also, had to fix somethings in the past entries for continuity purposes. That's the bad part of doing that.**

**As always, thanks for sticking around. Sorry for the short chapter, but I couldn't think of a better place to finish than this.**


	16. Watchers

**Day 38; February 7th, 2183**

We're being watched. Triali's called in a few favours to his old STG pals to watch those people watching us, but we 'aren't leaving this fucking building until we know we can leave this fucking building _without_ being shot at'... That was good ol' Alex Miller for you. The explosive specialist is currently bashing his head on the wall; he's actually leaving quite a dent there. Our resident turian is staring at _me_.

I can see those gears turning in his brain. And that is never good. Ever. Mark my words, if that spike-head tries to get me to do some dumbass shit just so he can get out without being seen, I am going to rip his fucking mandibles off and jam them up his ass.

...

Finally he's looking away. And motioning to Triali. Whispers in his ear hole thingie. Triali looks at me and grins. Motions Miller over, mutters in _his_ ear. He looks over to me and grins. If they agree on something, that means it's either the only choice they have or they just plain like the idea. And based on their reactions, I'm willing to bet it's the latter.

Fuck. You. You goddamn tacticians are going to get me killed.

...

"You goddamn tacticians are going to get me killed, you hear me?"

"Uh huh. Better you than me. Besides, you're best suited for..." Miller pauses before laughing at some unsaid joke- Wait a minute. _Suited_. That asshole.

"Yeah, good one. Let's break out the racial slurs while we're at it, eh monkey-boy?" Seriously that man pisses me off sometimes.

"Easy, Alex. Let's not get our distraction mad enough to make mistakes." And there's Gelky with his ever so subtle confidence boosters, "But he does have a point, Raz. You _are_ best suited to this sort of task."

"And what sort of task would this be?"

"Wait for our signal from the guys outside, we signal you. You walk out the front door and draw away as many of the Watchers as possible." Triali explains, "May include running. Lots of running."

I shake my head and back away, "No. No no no no! I am not walking out the front-fucking-door and getting my ass shot off just so you can leave unharmed!"

Miller tuts, then points a finger in my direction, "Kid, you remember when we first started training? When I asked you what you're best at? And you said..."

"...Tech stuff..."

"...And?"

"...Theft..."

"...And?"

Shit. "Free running."

"Exactly."

Triali speaks up again, "You must be ready for when the signal comes. Get _suited_ up and ready to go at a moments notice."

"You. Fucking. Assholes."

...

And now I wait. Waiting for my probable death by gunshot, or... Oh no. No. I will not be shot again, I do not want another goddamn fever.

**Day 39; February 8th, 2183**

Looked through more of the files we retrieved from Delumcore. There's some real fucked up shit in here. Supposed upgrades to various things... That one kinda looks like a Geth Rifle or something. Wait, that's... Yeah! That's the tech required for the (as of now) geth-only heat sink upgrades! And I have it now! I can sell it and shit! And that means...

_MONEY!_

I'm just gonna slip that to Serena, see what she can make of it. And now- There's a crackle of noise over Triali's omni-tool, followed by two high pitch beeps.

That's the signal. Hopefully I'll be right back to finish my thoughts here.

* * *

And so I set ready to go, just inside the door of the apartment we were holed up in. Gelkan looks at me and nods, "Go."

I open the front door and step outside. I look around. There are numerous people staring at me, but that's no different from before. But there are a few that aren't looking at me in innocent curiosity or veiled disgust. Some were, as I marked them on my HUD, watching me (and trying to pretend they weren't, idiots). I'm not as stupid as I act. I know they're watching me closely. So I casually walk down the path in front of the building. Yep, they're still glancing at me.

"Alright Raz. We've got contacts watching you nine o'clock, two o'clock and twelve o'clock high. On my signal, start running. I'll try to take the snipers up high out before they take you. We'll be out right after it's confirmed the Watchers are out of our hair." Right, the Watchers. That's what we've called the unknowns for now. Cause they've been _Watching_ us... Original, I know right?

Few more steps.

"NOW!" Time to run!

As I pick up the pace, I see the exact people I suspected get up and follow. And pull out guns. One talks into his omni-tool, probably reporting that they've got a runner. A muzzle flash in the building ahead, missed shot over my shoulder. I duck around the corner and hear another sniper return fire, a body falls out of the window.

Just keep running. Don't look back! Vault this thing, vault that thing, turn, turn, turn and... dead end. I turn to see two, three, no _four_ dudes blocking the entrance. Just like that, it's over. I put my hands up in surrender, not much I can do with four guys with guns. I _can_ make sure they don't get their data back, much less my own.

Inside my helmet I tell Serena to transfer all my shit to my main server at home. The result: a wiped omni-tool, no connection to me or my friends.

The dudes walk forward, one bashes me over the helmet. As I collapse and lose consciousness, I gain a little solace in the announcement from Serena.

"Transfer complete. Tracker placed. Your friends will not leave you..."

* * *

**Day 40; February 9th, 2183**

And here I am. Once again, just sitting on a metal bunk. Staring at a drab grey wall, or the drab metal door, or the simple single lighting fixture above me. The cell is very much empty besides those few features mentioned. I have no clue who captured me, nor do I really want to find out. I just want to leave. Now.

...

Someone keeps dropping off nutrient paste in the slot below the door. At least they're keeping me fed.

...

Waiting. Nothing but waiting.

* * *

**Day 41; February 10th, 2183**

Still nothing. I _did_ have a surprisingly good sleep last 'night'. I put emphasis on the quotations there, because the night/day cycle is only apparent due to the basic calendar of my omni-tool. Odd that they didn't take it off me, but I guess if it's just a basic model with no combat programs etcetera would there be any point?

...

To keep my mind off my 'situation' I began to do a little bit of a workout. There's not much room, though. Do some push-ups here, crunches there. I even ran on the spot for a bit. Whatever good that did.

...

Gaahhh, who are these people?! I'm just sitting here, doing nothing! Wasting away! And nobody has-

...

Somebody knocked on the metal door, before sliding the slot open. He/she slid the normal tray filled with nutrient paste through, but this time there was a note:

* * *

_Quarian,_

_Get some sleep, tomorrow we talk._

_A._

* * *

**Sorry about the short chapter people, I've been sidetracked by a different story I'm 'writing' with LeShyWolf and my normal work and school stuffs. I wanted to get this out ASAP, just to show I'm still around. The chapters will come slower though. I'm trying to figure out just where I'm trying to go with this one.**

**Once again, I apologise.**


	17. Storytime and Morbid Thoughts

**Day 42; February 11th, 2183**

Today I meet the so-called 'A.' What the _hell_ is with all these nicknames, mystery people, whatever? I may be thinking a bit hypocritically here, but there's The Illusive man, The Shadow Broker, this A. person, _me_ (Stakeholder). Who else... Jack... Well, she's not so mysterious... Uh, I'm rambling again. The point. _The point is:_ NO MORE MYSTERY PEOPLES, OK!?

A. A. Alex? Artemis? Axl? I knew an Axl once. He was a cool dude, little slow, but cool none-the-less. I have one awesomely hilarious memory of him getting packed in volleyball (hit in the face or chest with the ball, extremely embarassing) at least once per game. That, with the ol'... Oh fuck yeah, here's a great story: walking down the hall of a university (which will remain unnamed) with my team a few years back, we were making fun of each other. Like usual. Anyway, one of the guys (known for making very obvious statements, let's call him 'Saigon' here [Saigon was a nickname for him]) was commenting on the decor. More specifically the windows, which were shaped like portholes. This guy said "Whoa, the windows are like portholes, like we're in a submarine!" In response, another guy (known for making smartass comments) says this "Yeah! Whoa! Oh, I thought that was a whale; it was only Vindin's nose."

Of course, Vindin was known for his nose (if you didn't get the clue). Seriously, I had so much fun with those guys.

But look at me, turning this into 'Storytime with James'. Oh but I _do_ have some great stories. Like the time when 'Saigon' and 'Titty P' (he was a dairy farmer, our coach named him 'Tit Puller', which over time evolved into 'Titty P') collided. They were both running at each other, looking up at the ball. Saigon ended up elbowing Titty P in the eye, and then fell over. Titty P on the other hand, stayed standing. _How the fuck does that even work!?_ Anyway, Titty had to go to the hospital. The docs there specifically told him to _not fall asleep. _And what does he do? Yeah. Woke up with a permanent stain of blood on his white warmup shirt. We almost lost to the worst team in the tournament, when we could have won.

Or what about the time when I got an All-Star award for the tournament I played Libero (defensive specialist) when I have never played that position before.

Or the one time I won a Gold Medal on the only team in my history of volleyball that I _wasn't_ a big part of. Yeah, I spent the whole tournament minus four points (which, I might add, were all aces) filling water bottles. Fun times!

Or the time when _two_ holes were put in the wall of our school cafeteria in the same day by idiotic football players. Funny guys, but idiots.

Or the- You know what, maybe I should save some stories for later.

...

Started dancing. No doubt the dudes watching thought I was going insane. WELL THEY WERE SIX WEEKS TOO LATE! My 'Going Insane' party was that stupid fucking hijacking at the beginning of my little adventure here in 'Mass Effectia'.

I'm not talking Gangnam style dancing, club dancing... I'm talking ballroom dancing, without a partner. Swirling around in circles, practiced footsteps pacing in dextrous cycles. Then tap dancing. Jesus fucking christ that gets tiring. At the end, I was sitting on my bed whistling the FantomenK song called A Tiny Spaceship's Final Mission. Awesome song. If I hadn't wiped my omni-tool I'd be listening to that shit all day. Was in the middle of some head-bobbing when someone knocked on my door. Great, more food. Pastey paste. Mmmm... Strawberry!

...

Did some more excersises. Then... What? What do I do? Dance some more? Tell more stories about the history that doesn't exist?

...

I wonder what my family is doing? Mourn- Am I dead? I keep having these dreams. But they can't be dreams. Because I can smell, feel pain. Talk. And people react to my movements or sounds, badly. Like I'm in a coma. Am I in a coma? Is my brain so thoroughly fucked that I can't even think straight? And speaking of 'thoroughly fucked brains', why can't people understand me? I don't know anymore.

I wonder what my gaming clan is doing? Shout out to the Junkyard Junkies! If they even exist. Probably not. Does TF2 exist anymore? Probably is fucking Team Fortress 16 by now, and Valve pays people to play the game. All hail Gaben XIX!

Still rambling. And now-

_Knock, knock._

"You've got a visitor."

The door opens.

"You must be A." I say, before I switch off my omni-tool.

* * *

**Just a filler while I figure out what I'm going to do here. I wasn't so sure who I wanted A. to be yet, just that they were A. lol. But now I need to decided. Also, the stories I wrote in here are true stories from my life. The nicknames are also from real life.**

**Also, check out Dances with Daedric Princes, on LeShyWolf's page. She's a talented writer that puts me to shame, and yet we're throwing together a coooperative story! I may or may not have mentioned that before! Please leave a PM here, Review there, follow, all that shit.**

**Also, it helps to have people give me ideas as well about this story. So: leave a PM or review, give me an idea if you like where I'm going with this or not, and even leave some of your ideas that I may be able to splice into here. Having a narrowed imagination really does not help the creativity, but if I combined all fourty-something followers into one Mega-Brain, wheweee! We'd have a never-ending stream of idiotic, and awesome stuff! I have one request though: make it seem believable for both life and the character. Example: Don't say "And then have Raz fly out of the prison and shit out a nuclear bomb to BLOW UP THE MOTHERFUCKING PRISON!"**

**Not to say that wouldn't be fucking hilarious. But I digress...**

**Peace out ladies and gentlereaders.**


	18. Artemis

**Day 43; February 12th, 2183**

Well that was certainly an interesting conversation.

* * *

_Knock, knock._

"You've got a visitor."

The door opens.

"You must be A." I say, before I switch off my omni-tool.

I look up to see a hand in my face, apparently an offer to shake. A young blonde lady is attached to it, with two armed guards right behind her. I shake the hand; let it be said that I'm still not used to shaking hands with only three fingers.

"And you must be Raz'Tallen vas Nedas. An exile who, according to your dossier, is notorious for his AI programming and hacking skills." I have to admit, she reminds me of this girl back home that I _almost_ was in a relationship with. _Almost_ being the key word. Back to the voice: basically your average central Canadian, no accent and lots of pitch just to change things up.

"Aye, that'd be me." I tilt my head from where I sit on my bed, "You didn't answer my question."

She grins, "You never asked me a question, Mr Tallen." She's good.

I laugh, "Please, when I hear 'Mr Tallen' I can't help but think 'Mr Talent'. And that's just too much cockiness to deal with. Especially in my current state. Let's go with Raz, shall we?"

The grin widens a bit, "You're awfully confident for a prisoner. Still, no need for the pleasantries to go unseen. You can call me Artemis. And yes, I was the one who was mentioned in the letter."

"Excellent. That means there's something for me to do apart from sitting here. Please. Torture me or something. PLEASE." I make the sarcasm as evident as possible. I really don't want to be tortured. Lucky for me, and my big mouth, she laughs and shakes it off.

"No no no." She continues to smile, "In fact, I have an offer for you." And then the smile stops. "One you cannot afford to refuse." Damn, she went from California warm to Siberian cold in mere seconds. She's gotta be in deep with someone, or multiple someones.

"Hmm... I will be the judge of that." She frowns, but I hold up a hand before she says anything, "I'm not stupid. I just want to hear my options."

Or at least I think I'm not stupid. She hands a dossier to me, I open it.

"What the shit? There's _no way_ I'm doing this." I squeak out.

"You've done it before. What changed?" She seems curious, and still cold.

I steel myself, or try to. "You'd be surprised. Things change. People change. I changed. I am _not _doing that shit again."

"That's too bad. My employer will be very disappointed to know that you refused our offer. Did you even take a look at what we were offering in return?" She was obviously not looking forward to what would happen to me. That look on her face said that much.

"Damn. As much as I'd love to say 'You're boss can go fuck himself', that's probably not too smart at the moment. So I will say this: thank you for your offer. I'll be here if you need me... It's not like I'm going any-"

She cuts me off with a hand, then puts the hand on her ear, "What do you ne- Really... _Really?_" She looks at me, then shakes her head, "We have some commandos tearing this place apart, looking for something, or someone?" She raises her eyebrow, "You have some friendlies. Lucky." She motions to the guards with her hand and they leave the drab room.

"Friendlies eh?" Sounds like Triali and the boys have come for me perhaps?

She leans in and whispers, "I wish I had friends like that." She steps back and out the door before she says over her shoulder, "We'll see you around. Remember _my_ hospitality, and _our _offer."

Well now, that's not cryptic at all.

* * *

Explosions, increasing in size and volume. Gunfire. The poof! A wild turian appears! And he looks worried, tired _and _pissed. How is that even possible!?

"Whoa Raz? Is that you man?" He even sounds the part. Guy must have had it rough.

Another explosion. "Yessir. Sounds like the gang's all here."

"How can you even joke about this?! You were taken. Kidnapped! For days even!"

"And I appreciate it." I grab his shoulders. Which is quite difficult due to the fact that he's SEVEN FUCKING FEET TALL! "They had a job offer for me."

"Those... Black suited bastards... Kidnapped you... _For a job offer?_" He repeats in disbelief.

"You better believe it buddy. And my captors actually fed me pretty well." Another explosion. "But it was boring as shit. So shall we leave?"

He grabs me and we escaped in a rather normal fashion. 'Nuff said? No?

Well let me summarize: explosions. Explosions. Explosions. We run. Meet Triali at shuttle. Explosions.

I am pissed, though. If there's one thing I _hate, _it's needless waste of money. They had to buy a fucking ship to fly here. Unfortunately, none of the guys are billionaires. Except me. So they used my money; Miller said it best, "Looks like we've got a huge fucking IOU on this, mate."

You know how hard I had to work for that?

...

Actually, not very hard. And I don't really want to sound ungrateful either. But I don't think I was ever in trouble, that is until I declined the offer.

_Now_ I'm in trouble.

Now that I think of it, that 'escape' seemed rather easy. Suspicious.

Anyway, we're on our way home now. I gotta get my omni-tool shit back. I need to know what I missed. Probably a lot. Hope not too much. Cause that would suck.

* * *

**Another short one. Will be back soon. Bit sidetracked lately, ergo shorter chapters.**


	19. Frankenstein Monster'

**Day 44; February 13th, 2183**

At least they bought a decent ship. Not very big, they just needed transport. Hmmm... I'll have to think of a ship to compare it to. Smaller than the Normandy SR1, but remains pretty slick and well organised. I'll have to get a tour soon.

And Serena? She was _pissed_!

* * *

"You _idiot_!"

"Wow. Never thought that my creation would call me an idiot!"

Uh oh. I think... Yep. She's pissed. I was speaking to her via video, like Skype. And to those of you thinking 'Why not QEC?'_... _Why don't you spend a fucking _billion_ credits on a communications device. Seriously. Come to think of it, are those things even invented yet? Bah. I'll have enough money for that shit later.

Anyway, her image flashed red for a moment as she scowls, "I have been spending the last seventy-two hours worrying about you! And you _joke about it!?_"

I hold up my hands in a gesture of peace, "Take it easy, Serena. I... I appreciate it, I really do. And it's great to see you again."

She deflates, if that's possible for an AI.

On the other hand, who the fuck am _I _to ask 'What is possible'? The realm of possibility was _warped beyond recognition_ the moment I woke up on that transport forty-four days ago.

Forty-four days ago. Holy shit. I've lived through a hijacking, turned into a thief, hacker and AI programmer... I've joined a merc band, completed missions and been captured. By no means has it been perfect, but it sure has been an experience.

She glances down, then back at me again with tears in her eyes. Tears. From a series of programs! Incredible! "I... I wouldn't know what to do without you! You gave me life and purpose. Even trying to find you gave me purpose! Without you, I have no purpose."

"Do they know?" I ask, purely because it needed to be asked.

She sniffles, "I sent what I knew to Marya, and she relayed it to your teammates, claiming it was from 'a reliable source'." Whew. Shit like this can't spread, else it causes other... more harmful... things to happen.

"You did well, Serena. And don't you worry about 'purpose'. No matter what, you will find a reason to exist."

I hear footsteps behind me, then the activation of the door to the room I'm in. It's Miller, "It's good to see you again, mate- Who's this? A friend, a special lady friend? Has Raz'Tallen, quarian exile and hacker elite got himself a _human_ girlfriend?"

And that's another problem to have to deal with. But one that's not so difficult to defuse, "Ah, well no. Alex Miller? Meet Serena, a friend from the Citadel." She waves and smiles through the drying 'tears'. I still can't get over that small display of true emotion. "We've been close for as long as I can remember." A semi-lie, but one I can follow up on. "Anyway- Serena? It was great to see you're well."

"Likewise, Raz. I'll see you soon!" She smiles and _winks_ at me before she cuts the link. That we will, Serena.

Miller meets my glowing eyes with a knowing look, "Damn Raz! You've got the ladies all over you. Seems to me like she may want more than a friendship." He grins, then slaps me on the shoulder, "You gonna follow up on that?"

I frown a bit, "Nah." That would be _awkward_. "She's more like my sister than anything." Then it hit me. She knew. That... Aargh. She _knew_ it would cause trouble for me from Miller if she winked. And I have nothing to use against her! Well, I could hack her... Shut her down... Shackle her... I have plenty of things I _could_ do, but that'd just be mean.

In the end, it's just friendly teasing- "Well if you're not gonna go for a pretty young woman like her, I might!"

Oh no, Miller. You are not going there! My 'father' complex is hitting me full force now. I clench my fists... Until I hear a *_bing*_ from my omni-tool, indicating that my files and programs were freshly transferred from my backup drives at home. I relax, and take a deep breath.

* * *

Oh shit! Speaking of home: I've got a synthetic body to build! According to my 'e-mail', let's call it, the pieces have arrived and are being held at the outlets for their specific companies. Also, I have to deal with those schematics for thermal clips.

I search the extranet...

...

...

There! Delumcore was about to put them out, when apparently they were robbed by 'God-knows-who'. Haha! They had no fucking backups, the jackasses! Money money money! Now I've just gotta buy some company somewhere, leak the files to some place, then make it look like 'my' company picked them up somewhere... Scratch that. New plan. Leak them slowly to 'my' company. Let it advance, step-by-step, until we can produce the full deal... say... a year later or something. Make it as innocent as possible, I can't let them ('them' being the authorities or Delumcore) know that it was I who stole the schematics to make money for my own company.

Make sense?

Alright, good. I'll bounce the ideas off of Serena, see what we can come up with. First things first: Getting to the Citadel.

**Day 45; February 14th, 2183**

Feels good to be back home. Serena is pissed _again_, but this time it's funny. She's insisting that I shouldn't make this body for her. Fuck her. She spent time finding me, when she could have spent it planning the downfall of organics... That deserves a pat on the back, which is kind of hard to do when she doesn't have a back to pat. So I'll make her one! I also ordered some... I don't know how to explain it... It's like a rubber, skin like compound that I can use to cover the body once it's completed. Which should, in itself, take only a few hours to assemble. The hard part will be transferring a fragment of Serena to the body, so she can create the bridge on both sides (easing the transition considerably). That will no doubt only be made harder if she decides she wants to be stubborn.

* * *

"God damn you Woman- Synthetic- Thing! You go through with this, and it'll make life easier for both of us!" I'm bouncing between the table holding the synthetic body and the console I'm running some programs on, hitting snags on both ends that I have to work out bit by bit.

"But I do not want to cause trouble for you."

"You're causing trouble for me anyway! And I want this for you! And even though you're too stubborn to admit it, you want it too." I grin, even though she can't see it. "Admit it. You know you want it!"

"I will not deny that I desire to walk amongst organics, but if I am caught..."

"Then you have my permission to go _Terminator_ on their asses." I mumble, off-hand.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"I said, you can defend yourself."

"No, no. You said something about '_Terminator_'."

I tense up, _maybe_ that's not the best movie to show a budding artificial intelligence with the power to hack the entire Citadel.

"Never you mind what I said... Huzzah!" I throw my hands up in victory. I got it! The final piece of assembly: COMPLETE!

Now to start up the hidden camera. Must capture this on film.

I walk over to the console in my- our living room. I guess I will be sharing this space with something else now. I managed to nab a piece of Serena when she wasn't paying attention and put it on an OSD. I grab said OSD, and take it back to my workspace to insert it into the back of the robot's head. I walk back to the console and hover my finger over the 'Transfer' button. Oh over simplified UIs, you make me laugh.

"Are you ready?"

"No."

"WELL TOO DAMN BAD!"

I jab the holographic button. The bar fills up quickly, apparently Serena just wanted this to get over with quickly.

75% My appendages are shaking in anticipation. I clasp them together to stop them.

85% I glance back and forth between the console and the robot.

95% The lights go out, console shorts out. I hear voices in the hallways both above and below me.

"FUCK!"

I slam my faceplate into the now console 'keyboard' thingie. I still prefer semi-solid keys to the full hologram shit that they have here.

Sparks fly from the body. I turn around and whisper, "Holy shit." A huge glowing spark flies from the head of the body, right where the OSD is sticking out, in slow motion. I yell, "Holy shit!" The spark hits the carpet floor, and catches fire, "Holy Shit... NO!"

I've never moved so quickly in my life. Can't have fire alarms, no no no no no. I dive and smother the fire with my own body- suit. Thing. You know. I turn my head up to see the lights of the body flicker, then stay on. The body shudders, then leans up. I start laughing hysterically.

"It. Is. ALIVE!"

...

I had to. Come on!

Ok.

When you ever assemble a synthetic body for the AI you created, then short out the whole fucking apartment building to merge the two, then you have my permission to judge. So you cannot judge me now!

...

The body flexes its joints. Smooth. It's like a direct replica of that Dr. Eva from the third game. AKA EDI's body. I grab the can of 'skin'.

If you've ever seen the movie _I Robot_, then you'll know what I mean when I say I started 'spraying the skin onto the body'. The eyes were a bright blue colour, but Serena could change that whenever she wants to.

She turns the head to me, then the lips move, "This is wierd."

...

That it is, Serena.

* * *

**Day 46; February 15th, 2183**

She wakes me up at the normal time, I go for my jog like normal, then go grocery shopping. Just a normal day.

...

I've spent the entire fucking rest of the day teaching Serena how to walk, move, etcetera. The skin works like a charm, the synthetic body itself produces a substance to replicate hair, and the power to the building came back on not too long ago. Nobody has come to my apartment yet, but I have no doubts that they will eventually. I hope not. Cause if... I'll be right back.

...

Whew... Just spent the remainder of the day cleaning my Frankenstein lab up. Besides the huge burn on the carpet, everything looks just fine! I'm so tired though. I'm gonna rest.

**Day 47; February 16th, 2183**

Serena seems to be taking to the body quite well. I taught her how to hold shit today. I taught her omni-tool functions and basic human stuffs, like how to act amongst people in public. She could join me anytime she wants to for a walk, but that'll be-

* * *

"Raz?" I look up to see the synthetic walking into the room, out from her 'hiding spot' in the closet.

"What's up?" She's got _that_ voice, like she's gonna make a big-

"I want to go outside. Tomorrow." Holy shit! Then I look her over.

...

Well fuck me. I knew I forgot something, and my god I am such a retard for missing this particular thing: clothes. She's still wearing the towel I gave her after I finished applying the skin substance (I don't even know what to call it). Her synthetic hair is simulating a recent shower, which goes well with the towel, but she needs clothing.

I tell her that I'm going shopping tomorrow. But I need help.

I bring up my contact list and call someone, "Hey Marya... Yeah? Uh huh... Yeah, nice to hear you too... Look. No! You shut up! I have an EMERGENCY HERE! I need... Yeah, I need your help... Well, you can either come here, or we can meet... You're coming here? Ok great. I'll be here."

She'll be blindsided by my request. And it will be glorious.

* * *

_Knock, Knock_

I make my way to the door, and in a sing-song voice I ask "Who is it?"

"It's me." Comes the less than enthused answer.

I open the door, she strides in with a cause that's reminiscent of the first time she came to my apartment. "What's the emergency? Also, where have you been? You disappeared on us again."

I start laughing, "I've been busy!"

"The last time you 'were busy' was when you made... No, you didn't make another... Did you?" She turns slowly to me, "I swear by the Goddess, I will murder you if you did it again."

My laughs keep increasing, until my first hiccup. Did you know that quarian's can hiccup? Must be a universal thing for species with diaphragms. Anyway, "Oh no. I wouldn't. But... Serena? Marya's here."

And she in to the living room, through the door. Wearing that stupid towel, and looking exactly like her virtual image. I do good work, I'm just a touch short-sighted. Too bad the fate universe may hinge on my decisions.

"Hello Marya." She says.

Marya covers her mouth, and lets out a muffled scream, "You... You... You're..."

"I am Serena, yes." She finishes, with what is definitely a smug look on her face. (I'm going to refer to the body as 'her', because it is 'Serena' even though she is not restricted to the body itself).

Marya shifts to me, "How?"

"You remember the last time you barged into my house? And I was working on something big? This was my latest project, I ordered the parts just before my kidnapping and started on it the moment I got back home. Serena," I motion to the synthetic in question, "Didn't want me to, but I did it anyway. Now she can have a decent mobile platform to go out in public with... Just gotta avoid metal detectors." I chuckled.

"And you needed me for what?" She asks, disbelief still apparent on her face.

"Well, for one, to show you and catch your reaction on camera." Oh yes. I am that mean. "For two: I need your help, that much was the truth. Serena wants to go outside, tomorrow. But..." I pause for effect, "She has no clothes."

Marya face-palms.

"I would prefer to not be apprehended for public indecency on my first outing." Serena adds.

"I know fuck all about female fashion, so you're going to come with me to buy her some shit to wear. I'll pay for everything, probably buy you coffee too." It looks like I may need to bribe her a bit.

"You're gonna need to do more than just bribe me with coffee, buddy." She replies, coldly. Well shit.

"I _did_ just buy us a ship, you know..."

...

"Fine." She gives in.

YES!

"But you are not going to complain about price. Colour. Style. We are going to shop, _female style."_ Oh, she drives a hard bargain. But Serena needs clothing.

"Deal."

"Ok. Meet me at Starblock's Cafe, tomorrow at nine o'clock AM. I'll be getting that coffee then. It'll take a while to put together a wardrobe."

"Will do."

She pushes by me, "You owe me."

"What?! I'm buying you-"

"Not you, idiot. Serena. I'm saving her from embarrassment, that will no doubt arrive if a male buys her first set of clothes."

"I will not forget this, Marya. Neither will Raz."

And so tomorrow, we go shopping. For Serena's first day of walking outside.

...

Why do I get the feeling that something bad is going to happen?

* * *

**Starblock's is most definitely not a rip off of Starbucks. Nope. No sir.**

**Also, good ideas here. Let me know if I delivered.**

**I hate shopping.**

**Review, follow, favourite. That kind of shit. **

**G'Day, peeps.**


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